The Cultural Addition
by Joycelyn Solo
Summary: An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the Enterprise and the future of Humanity.
1. The most important meal of the day

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.   
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references. Though I _loved_ "Similitude," it doesn't fit with this story's progression of our favorite couple's romance and will be ignored.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, my patient beta.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter** **One - The most important meal of the day**

"Oatmeal, again?"

Jonathon Archer, captain of the starship _Enterprise_, shared his chief engineer's dismay as they both regarded the bowls set before them. "With Chef out of commission, I'm sure his staff is doing the best they can."

Since entering the Delphic Expanse, _Enterprise_ had encountered spatial anomalies which rewrote the laws of physics -- and wreaked havoc, in general, throughout the ship. The most recent devastation had been the anomaly one week ago that ripped through the ship's kitchen, resulting in severe burns to Chef's hands. Dr. Phlox was able to repair most of the damage, but there would be no lead cook in the kitchen for at least another week.

Frowning, Charles "Trip" Tucker stared at the lumpy, colorless, mound currently being passed off as his breakfast. "I might waste away from malnutrition if he's not back in the kitchen soon."

"The oatmeal contains sufficient nutritional value, Commander Tucker. You are in no danger of 'wasting away'."

The engineer turned his attention to the other occupant of the Captain's Mess. Knowing it had no effect on her -- except irritation -- he stuck out his bottom lip and pouted. "It doesn't taste all that nutritious."

Though few would have noticed, Tucker delighted in the slight movement of Sub-Commander T'Pol's eyebrow in response to his pout. It wasn't even 0700, yet, and he'd already gotten a rise out of his favorite Vulcan.

He was further gratified when she chose to contradict his illogical statement. "I find, Commander, that the foods you find the most satisfying to your taste buds are the ones with the least amount of dietary value."

"That's what makes 'em good for you." He grinned widely and took a bite of his oatmeal, ignoring the bland taste as he waited for her to continue the game.

Unnoticed in the midst of the breakfast debate, Archer watched with quiet amusement as his first officer and chief engineer sparred. With everything the ship's crew had experienced over the last several months, it was nice to see that some things were slowly returning to normal.

It had been too long since he, Trip and T'Pol had taken a meal together, something they had enjoyed regularly before the Xindi attack on Earth. Trip had withdrawn from Archer and their long-time friendship after his sister's death in the attack. According to Dr. Phlox, T'Pol, it seemed, had been one of the few able to reach the commander through his grief and was slowly bringing him out of his protective shell.

As grateful as he was for having Trip back, Archer could not help a pang of jealousy as he watched their debate move from food to the latest Movie Night selection. He didn't understand why Trip hadn't come to him after his sister's death, why he had chosen to shut him out. He couldn't help but be hurt that T'Pol was able to comfort his friend when he could not.

And he could not help the brief flash of anger at the prominent role Trip seemed to have taken in T'Pol's life. Granted, Archer had no claim to her -- apart from relying on her as first officer -- but there were times he felt as though there could be something more between them than their professional relationship. Afterall, he was the one she came to when she was concerned with something. Of course, it was usually ship's business, but she could have taken care of it herself or gone to one of the other senior officers. Besides, even Phlox had noticed the potential chemistry -- and he made a study of noticing things like that.

Despite his conflicted feelings, Archer took comfort in watching their debate. A month ago he had come close to losing Trip and T'Pol -- closer than anyone on board knew -- when both had gone missing for three days on an away mission. Neither Trip or T'Pol could recall what happened during that lost time and Lieutenant Reed's investigation failed to yield any answers. With no clues and a pressing timetable, Archer had come very close to leaving orbit. If he hadn't agreed to allow Reed one last chance to look for them...

His guilt over almost abandoning his two officers overshadowed any jealousy he felt toward either of them. With their return to the ship, Archer made overtures to both Trip and T'Pol to renew their previous camaraderie. If their easy manner at the breakfast table was any indication, it seemed his efforts were paying off.

If anything, Archer could tell that Trip was enjoying himself. As he took another bite of his breakfast, he wondered if T'Pol got anything out of their debates?

~ ~ ~

Loathe to admit it, T'Pol was enjoying the verbal sparring with Commander Tucker

Though she was satisfied with the progress he made as a result of his neuropressure sessions, it had been many months since he'd openly challenged her with his illogical statements.

She found she missed it.

Despite seeing him daily, she missed the commander -- the _real_ Charles Tucker. The subdued version of the engineer -- though sometimes preferable to the outrageously irrational one -- was a hollow shell of the man she knew before his sister's death. Even in her quarters, when they made "small talk" during their evening sessions, she knew it was empty words to fill the silence. Their debate over the oatmeal was the first _true_ hint of the man she'd befriended.

Of course, as most exchanges with the commander went, they did not stay on breakfast food for long. He was currently justifying the need for comedies during Movie Night.

"Laughter's a great release of stress, T'Pol. You should try it."

Tucker knew very well that Vulcans did not laugh, but T'Pol was sure he said it only to irritate her. Why he tried so hard to get a reaction out of her, she did not know, but she found she appreciated his efforts.

"As you know, Commander, there are other activities for alleviating stress."

Too late she realized what the engineer's sometimes-juvenile mind was already focusing on. He moved his eyebrows up and down in quick repetition -- "waggle" was the word he used to describe the motion -- and asked, "Is that an invitation, Sub-Commander?"

Before she could respond, T'Pol saw Archer's features harden at Tucker's question. Obviously the captain's mind was just as juvenile as the engineer's. Though Tucker's comment was far from appropriate, she thought it out-of-character for their commanding officer to frown so fiercely in response.

No matter how much time she spent on the Human vessel, she would never fully understand the species.

Ignoring the captain's scowl and the commander's continued eyebrow-waggling, she clarified. "I was referring to the Vulcan neuropressure, Commander. Perhaps the treatments are not providing the relief you need. I believe Dr. Phlox still has --"

Tucker held his hands up to waylay the rest of her comment. "It's alright, T'Pol. You win. The sessions are fine for me, but I just think the rest of the crew could use a good laugh now and then."

"Maybe you should go streaking through the hallways, again, Trip." Archer offered. To T'Pol, the jovial manner in which he made his comment belied the tension she sensed as he gripped his spoon tightly and proceeded to mash his oatmeal into a finer paste."I seem to remember everyone have a good laugh at you."

"Funny, Cap'n." Tucker said in a voice that clearly did not find humor in the subject. It was not unusual for the two officers to trade barbs and reminisce over past adventures, but she found it odd that the captain would bring up a subject that obviously discomforted Tucker.

Apparently unaware of the story's affect on his friend, Archer continued. "Not only did Trip accept the dare to run through the dorm in his birthday suit, but he didn't expect to have his room locked when he was done. He had to knock, naked, door-to-door to find a pair of pants to borrow."

The captain laughed, relishing his tale, even as Tucker shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Wishing to put an end to the commander's suffering, T'Pol said, "I do not believe having a senior officer run nude through the corridors would prove to alleviate crew stress."

Instead of feeling satisfied with her logical end of the discussion, T'Pol wondered why her cheeks felt suddenly warm. One moment they had been in innocent debate and the next she was imagining Commander Tucker naked in the corridor outside her quarters.

Neither Archer or Tucker seemed to notice her discomfort as both men had turned their attention to finishing their breakfast.

Eying her own bowl of half-eaten oatmeal, she decided she was no longer hungry. Pushing her dish aside, she stood. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have a report from Lieutenant Reed to review."

Not giving either Human time to stand, as was their chivalrous custom, she quickly turned and left the room.

~~~ 


	2. Not all minds that wander are lost

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.   
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references. Though I _loved_ "Similitude," it doesn't fit with this story's progression of our favorite couple's romance and will be ignored.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, my patient beta.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Two - Not all minds that wander are lost**

It was not like Vulcans to dwell on things.

Then again, it was not like Vulcans to allow their minds to wander to inappropriate places over the breakfast table, either.

She had managed to relegate the _incident_ to the back of her mind for consideration later. Fortunately for her, she did not have further contact with the focal point of her wandering mind for the remainder of the day.

Twenty hours later, however, it was time to analyze the event, trace its root cause and file it away in the organized recess of her mind.

Seated on the floor of her quarters, T'Pol attempted once again to center herself, focusing on the flame that danced above her candle. As part of her morning ritual, she was accustomed to rising early -- relying on her internal clock -- and meditating before her duty shift.

This morning should have been no different.

T'Pol woke at her usual time, arranging the blanket and pillow neatly on her small bunk. She lit a candle and kneeled on the mat. She took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose and out again. As she continued the deep, meditative breathing, she closed her eyes...

And was assaulted once more with the mental image of Commander Tucker in his naked glory.

She had never actually seen the Commander "in the buff" -- a term she once heard him use. However, T'Pol had seen enough of him to paint a realistic picture for her mind's eye.

Of course, the question was not _where_ her mind contrived the image, but _why?_

She acknowledged that Commander Tucker was a fine specimen of physical fitness, but that was true of most the male crewmen. Good health and regular exercise were required of all _Enterprise_ hands.

That did not mean that T'Pol imagined any of them naked.

Then, again, none of them had blue eyes as deep as Charles Tucker's. Even she could not deny how their blue depths reminded her of Earth's oceans. How those eyes sparkled when he teased her, how his mouth curved at the corners --

She shook her head in an illogical attempt to halt her mind's downward spiral to its favorite conclusion.

Finding any attempt to concentrate a futile effort, T'Pol blew out the candle -- perhaps with more force than needed to extinguish the small flame -- and proceeded to ready herself for the day.

She dressed in one of the colorful suits she had adopted into her wardrobe since resigning her commission to the Vulcan High Command. It was a small act of rebellion on her part, one no other Vulcan would understand, but the sight of the soft-blue velour as she removed it from the closet was a reminder of her independence from a body that for too long controlled her actions, both personal and professional.

While fastening the suit, T'Pol could not help but notice that the material seemed to exhibit a tighter fit across her abdomen. To say she was surprised would -- well, insult her Vulcan sensibilities, but it would also -- be an understatement. Not only did she adhere to a strict physical routine to maintain her health and fitness, but she had actually experienced less of an appetite in the last week. She had contributed her apathy toward food as stress, but perhaps all her symptoms -- though seemingly unrelated -- could indeed be an indication of a larger problem.

With a sinking feeling, T'Pol accepted that the lost of mental control -- both the "mind wandering" and inability to manage her own metabolism -- could only mean one thing. It was obvious that Phlox's treatments of the Pa'nar Syndrome had lost their effectiveness.

Though she knew this day would come, T'Pol could not say that she was ready for it. She had resigned herself to the fact that too little was known of the disease for a cure to be found in her lifetime. She had hoped -- illogically -- that the doctor's treatments would ward off the effects for the time being, but it seemed that time was already gone.

Already unfocused from the lack of proper meditation, and faced with the harsh reality of her mortality, T'Pol managed with no small amount of effort to compose herself enough for the walk from her quarters to Sickbay.

No matter what the doctor's prognosis, she was determined to be Vulcan to the last.

~ ~ ~

When T'Pol entered Sickbay, Phlox only needed one look at her drawn features to know what had brought her to the _Enterprise_ medical facility so early in the morning.

Pa'nar Syndrome.

Though he had been successful in treating T'Pol's symptoms, Phlox was far from developing a cure to the oft-debilitating Vulcan disease. As the sub-commander described her symptoms, Phlox could not help his growing apprehension. If the treatments were no longer helping, it could indicate that the disease had evolved past his ability to help.

But when he performed a scan to determine the extent of the disease's damage, his anxiety turned to a different feeling.

Complete bafflement.

Examining the readouts, Phlox did not find any indication of advanced Pa'nar or any other unusual activity in the Vulcan's brain. Broadening his search, he enjoyed a small amount of relief when he found another plausible cause...

That quickly brought on its own set of questions.

"What have you found, Doctor?" T'Pol asked, sitting up on the biobed as Phlox continued to digest the scan's results.

Rather than answer straight, Phlox leaned against a nearby cupboard, his hands crossed in front of him, in as relaxed a posture as he could manage. "How are the neuropressure sessions with Commander Tucker progressing?"

If T'Pol thought the question odd, she hid it well as she responded. "Commander Tucker is returning to normal sleep patterns and seems to be resuming interaction with the rest of the crew."

"And have you experienced any...ah...benefits?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you and Commander Tucker been intimate?"

Had she been any other member of the crew, Phlox would have been less abrupt with his question, but he knew T'Pol would prefer a more straight-forward approach. Vulcans did not dally over unnecessary details.

As much as she may have appreciated his getting to the point, T'Pol could not help the way her spine stiffened in response. "I fail to see where that issue has relevance with the advanced stages of Pa'nar Syndrome."

"I do not believe your symptoms have anything to do with Pa'nar, Sub-Commander. However, even if you had been intimate, it does not explain my readings."

"And what, exactly, are your readings?"

Breaking his usual protocol, Phlox handed a copy of the scan readout to T'Pol. "As you can see from the initial scan, there is no indication of additional Pa'nar-infected areas. However," He touched the PADD to advance to the next scan, "Here you can see something very unusual."

No amount of Vulcan training could have prevented the way T'Pol's eyes widened as she viewed the display. "A fetus." She said, near-choking on the word as she strove to retain some scientific detachment. "But there are no Vulcans on board and, even if there were, I have not been physically intimate with anyone."

"And that is where the _real_ mystery comes in." He pointed to the readings taken of the scan. "This fetus is half-Human. And, if I am not mistaken, that half belongs to Commander Tucker."

"The Commander and I have not..."

"Even if you had, there are still many questions to be answered. However, both you and Commander Tucker were in here just over a month ago for an extensive examination. His medical record is still keyed into the computer's memory. He is a match for the Human genes."

~ ~ ~

There were some mornings Trip Tucker was convinced he never should have gotten out of bed.

After being roused from a restful -- thanks to T'Pol and the neuropressure -- sleep by the incessant beeping of intership communications, he'd dressed hastily and joined the Vulcan sub-commander and Denobulan doctor in Sickbay.

Still sleep-addled, it hadn't occurred to him what could possibly be so urgent first thing in the morning. Nor did he think to ask if it could wait until he'd at least had breakfast.

His stomach growling and his hair still damp from a hasty shower, he should have known the sight of T'Pol and the Phlox -- both looking decidedly uncomfortable -- should have sent him running back back to his quarters to hide.

Probably because he was still half-asleep, he took the news surprisingly well. At least, compared to the last time he found out he was going to be a father -- er, mother -- or, hell, he never did figure out which one he was.

Not that it mattered now. That was two years ago and an incident he tried very hard to forget.

At that moment, however, the unrealism of that situation was brought back to him again as he registered what Phlox was saying.

T'Pol was pregnant.

With his child.

He didn't remember doing anything that could have possibly ended in this result. Then again, he didn't remember doing anything with Ah'len, either, and he had gotten himself pregnant.

So, okay, he guessed it was possible to have impregnated T'Pol without being aware of it, but, as far as he knew, Vulcan and Humans did the deed in a pretty similar fashion. Except for that whole seven-year thing; Humans did it much more frequently if they could.

As the silence stretched on, Trip realized Phlox and T'Pol were waiting for him to say something. What, he didn't know, but they were both expectant.

And it hit him again that T'Pol _was_ expecting.

"I don't understand." Trip looked up them -- realizing, for the first time, that he must have sat down on the stool Phlox provided. "I mean, we never...At least, I don't think we ever...How did this happen?"

"The matter of 'how' is still in question." Phlox answered, a slight shrug of his shoulders accentuating his confusion.

Trip shook his head, attempting to clear it and bring his thoughts to order. "Do Vulcans and Humans...I mean, is it even..."

"The mating process for Humans and Vulcan is quite similar." Phlox provided. "According to T'Pol, however, the two of you have not been intimate. And, frankly, if you had it would still not explain her current condition. Though Humans and Vulcans are alike in many ways, it is doubtful a successful pregnancy would result from traditional coupling."

Trip felt a small amount of his tension ease. At least he hadn't done something stupid to land himself in this position -- again. But if they didn't do it...who did?

T'Pol, who had been largely silent during the exchange, must have had the same thought. "I have agreed to further examination by Doctor Phlox. It may help his investigation if you were to do the same."

Trip turned his attention to her. Even though her Vulcan mask of logic was firmly in place, he couldn't help but notice that she seemed smaller than usual, more fragile. T'Pol was the strongest woman he knew. She irritated the heck out of him, but he respected her. He'd never seen her look so unsure of herself.

Vulnerable.

Even if he wasn't going to stick around for testing -- a task he didn't look forward to -- there was no way he was going to leave her alone. And, if Phlox's findings were true, the two of them were in it together.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I'll stay."

~~~ 


	3. Archer, don't preach

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.   
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references. Though I _loved_ "Similitude," it doesn't fit with this story's progression of our favorite couple's romance and will be ignored.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To my beta Stub...You ROCK!!  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Three - Archer, don't preach**

Sickbay was a popular place when Jonathon Archer arrived two hours later.

Phlox had stressed the urgency of seeing the captain as soon as possible. Archer assumed whatever the doctor wanted to talk to him about was important, but he hadn't expected to find half of his command crew waiting for him.

Trip and T'Pol were seated on biobeds, though neither seemed ill or injured, and the captain gave Phlox a questioning frown. "I wasn't expecting a full staff meeting when I came down here. What's going on?"

"We have a bit of a mystery on our hands, Captain." Phlox said, nodding his head the biobeds. "It appears we will have an addition to the crew in several months."

Remembering the last time he was called into a similar conference, Archer allowed a teasing grin to settle on his features as he looked pointedly at Trip. "What did you do?"

"It isn't Commander Tucker, this time, Captain." Phlox clarified. "At least, he isn't the pregnant one."

"Then who?" Archer asked, turning his attention back to Phlox as his grin faded back to puzzlement.

The Denobulan tilted his head toward T'Pol. "It seems the Sub-Commander is expecting a bundle of Vulcan joy."

For the first time, Archer noticed the monitoring device strapped to T'Pol's abdomen. Then he looked again at Trip -- and noted that his "best friend" was doing his best to avoid looking him in the eyes.

All sense of teasing or puzzlement were gone as Archer turned to his chief engineer. "Of all the irresponsible...I knew the two of you were spending a lot of time together, that the neuropressure sessions were just to help you sleep. Obviously sleep is the last thing you've --"

Trip's head snapped up and he glared at Archer. "Now just wait a minute, Cap'n. This wasn't my idea any more than it was T'Pol's."

"Well of course it wasn't anyone's idea, but it's bound to happen when you start --"

Trip pushed himself up off the biobed, standing tall as he matched his commanding officer's ire. "Maybe if you'd wait for the doc to explain before you started harping on the two of us you'd know what was going on."

"I don't need Phlox to explain the birds and the bees to me." He turned his attention to T'Pol. "How long has this been going on?"

T'Pol, her face even more unreadable than usual, replied quietly. "The fetus appears to be three weeks along, but the Commander and I have not --"

"Three weeks ago, huh?" Archer cut her off and turned, again, on Trip. "It was awfully convenient how you disappeared for three days. I can't believe you would endanger the crew just so you two could enjoy a little holiday."

Trip took a step toward Archer, only to take it back as he felt T'Pol's hand on his arm. He took a deep breath to calm himself, even as T'Pol's innocent action stoked the fire quickly burning through Archer's mind. "I can understand you're thinkin' so little of me in this situation, but I can't believe you'd accuse T'Pol of the same. If you'd just let Phlox explain..."

"He's right, Captain." Phlox said, stepping to Archer's side, a PADD in hand. "Even if the Commander and Sub-Commander were intimate, it is unlikely a conception would occur."

Archer frowned at Phlox, some of the temper easing from his features as he regarded the Denobulan. "You said Vulcans and Humans were compatible."

"Oh, yes, they are. But a Vulcan-Human hybrid would require additional assistance to what Mother Nature can provide." Phlox handed the PADD to Archer. "Take a look at this."

"What am I looking at?" Archer glared at the display screen, remembering why he went into command instead of science.

"When I examined Commander Tucker and T'Pol after their disappearance, I found high hormone levels. Not knowing what they had experienced on the planet, I attributed it as the body's response to a high-stress ordeal.

"What I did not notice until recently, when the Sub-Commander began feeling unwell, was the presence of iron in her blood."

Archer, knowing little of Vulcan physiology, asked, "So?"

"Vulcan blood has a copper base, giving it a greenish tint while iron gives Human blood a red look. For T'Pol to have an iron mix in her blood is highly unusual."

By the furrow of Archer's brow, it was plain he did not understand what the doctor was saying.

Phlox tried for further clarification. "If someone was hoping for Human genetic material to survive in a Vulcan host, the iron would have to be introduced to create a welcoming environment."

"So, what you're saying," Archer asked incredulously, "Is someone abducted Trip and T'Pol for the soul purpose of breeding them?"

Phlox sighed. "Frankly...yes."

"Why?"

"That's what we'd like to know." Trip said, still standing next to T'Pol.

"The logical course of action would be returning to that planet and finding those responsible."

Archer opened his mouth to agree, but then quickly closed it and shook his head. "We can't do that. We're three weeks away. If we turned around now it would take a month, at least, to get back here. That's time we can't afford."

"But, Cap'n --"

"I'm sorry, Trip. You of all people know how important this mission is. We need to find the Xindi."

"Captain --"

"No, Doctor. Even if we did go back, there's no guarantee we'd find anything. Malcolm's team searched every inch of that planet when Trip and T'Pol went missing. There was no sign of anyone -- not even them -- during the three-day investigation."

Trip looked from Archer, to T'Pol, and back to Archer. "So what do we do?"

Archer shrugged his shoulders. "You tell me."

With that, he turned on his heel and left Sickbay.

~ ~ ~

"That went about as well as I'd expected."

T'Pol, still seated on the biobed, turned her attention from the closed Sickbay doors to Trip. "Indeed."

More than a little surprised by the captain's abrupt departure, Phlox nodded. "He is probably right. Even if we did go back, it is doubtful there would be anything to find. Wherever you were taken for those three days must have been very well-hidden."

"And whatever whammie they did on us was pretty effective." Trip shook his head. "I still can't remember anything that happened between taking those soil samples and waking up in the shuttlepod."

"Nor can I." T'Pol added. "It seems their medical technology is fairly advanced to have been able to create the hybrid. It is likely they had a sophisticated 'whammy' to prevent us from remember the ordeal, as well."

Phlox was about to say something when their was a high-pitched screech from the back of Sickbay. "Oh my," he said, looking at the chrono-display. "It is much later than I had thought. I forgot to feed the Aludan dune rat. If you will excuse me."

Leaving the PADD on the counter, he quickly followed the sound of the screeching.

Trip watched the Denobulan go, then looked at T'Pol. "Speaking of the...hybrid..." He resumed his place on the biobed, feet hanging over the edge so he could look at T'Pol.

T'Pol, in turn, focused her gaze on the flat of her abdomen. Despite the scientific proof and messages from her own body, it was still difficult to believe there was a living being -- a half-Human being -- growing inside of her.

When she did not answer, Trip continued, "I still can't believe it, really. I think when Phlox told me, I was still half-asleep. Then when he was doing all those tests and after with the captain...I guess I was just too stunned to really say or feel anything. But now...it is real, isn't it?"

T'Pol nodded, a Human trait she'd begun to emulate. Trip wondered if she even noticed that she'd picked up that particular habit. It was amazing, really, how much she'd become a part of the crew, a part of their culture. When he looked at her he didn't see Vulcan or alien...he saw T'Pol.

Now she was closer to Humanity than she ever wanted to be.

"I'm sorry, T'Pol."

"For what, Commander?"

"For this...for everything. I'm sorry."

"As we already explained to the captain, you had as much control over this as I did. Your apology is illogical."

Trip smiled. No matter how much time she spent with Humans, it was good to know T'Pol could still whip out the logic. "I can't help but feel a little responsible. It _is_ my genetic material in there. We're still foggy on how it got there, but...Have you thought about what we're going to do?"

"I have reviewed several options, but any decision made will affect both of us."

"You more than me, but I want you to know that I'm here for ya." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Uh...I don't know know if you've even considered this route, and I hate to tell you what to do with your body, but, personally, I don't like the idea of just getting rid of it."

One sculpted Vulcan eyebrow rose slightly. "The thought had not occurred to me, Commander. Nor would I consider it an option."

"That's good." Trip felt a margin of tension in his shoulders ease. "I mean, if you had decided to...I'd stick by ya...but it's just not kosher with how I was raised."

"I did not realize you were Jewish, Commander."

"Jewish? Wha -- Oh, no. I'm not, I just meant the idea didn't sit well with me."

"Nor with me." T'Pol seemed to think about something a moment. "As you most likely know, Vulcans have an aptitude for certain levels of telepathy. During pregnancy, a bond is formed between the child and the mother, which is why termination of pregnancy is not heard of in our culture."

A looked crossed Trip's face that T'Pol could not read. "Have you, uh, bonded with the baby?"

"Yes, though I had not realized it. I believe that is why I have had difficulty concentrating of late. My sub-conscious has been divided, causing my thoughts to become unfocused."

"You've been daydreamin'?"

With her eyes cast down toward the fetal monitor, T'Pol did not notice the strange look that again graced his features. "That is an apt-enough term." She answered, grateful he did not ask what she had daydreamed about.

"So..." He leaned even more forward, placing himself in danger of toppling off the biobed. "We're keeping the baby."

T'Pol turned to look at him. "I already said you do not have to feel responsible, Commander."

"When I say 'we,' T'Pol, I mean it. We may not have gotten here the old-fashioned way, but we're both in the same boat."

Before T'Pol could discourage him, Phlox returned. "I believe we can remove that monitor now, Sub-Commander. Though I would like to see you again tomorrow morning to discuss prenatal care. I don't need to tell you that this will be a very special pregnancy."

"How'd you know we were going to continue with the pregnancy?" Trip asked, suspicious that Phlox had left the alone only to spy on them.

Phlox smiled, a "normal"-sized smile by Human standards. "Knowing the two of you, I did not doubt the outcome of your discussion. Nor should I be surprised that you are going to play an active role, Commander. You've grown up very much since your first pregnancy. I believe the two of you will make fine parents."

~~~  
More to come...including Archer's skepticism and reactions from the rest of the crew.  


Oh, by the way, while we're at it...  
If you would like to vote for baby gender...please e-mail me (joycelyn_solo@hotmail.com) with a subject of either:

"Cultural Addition: It's a GIRL!!"

- or -

"Cultural Addition: It's a BOY!!"

Be sure to submit a review to FF.N, too, but votes must be e-mailed (makes it more of a surprise than if y'all can tally the votes yourselves). 


	4. How long IS that bun in the oven?

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.   
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references. Though I _loved_ "Similitude," it doesn't fit with this story's progression of our favorite couple's romance and will be ignored.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **Have I mentioned how great my beta Stub is?  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Four - How long IS that bun in the oven?**

No matter how impossible it was for a Vulcan and Human to conceive, Jonathon Archer could not fully believe T'Pol's pregnancy was not the result of less-than-professional activities with the _Enterprise_ chief engineer.

Nor could he shake the betrayal he felt, despite the evidence and testimony to his best friend's and first officer's innocence. 

Seated behind his desk with the expectant parents before him, he found it difficult to hide his doubts. 

"You're keeping the baby." 

If he hadn't been mired in his own thoughts, Archer would have laughed at the look of surprise on Trip's face. 

"Did Phlox already call up here? We just left Sickbay a minute ago." 

"No, I haven't talked to Phlox," he answered, eyeing both of them critically. "I just know the two of you -- or at least I thought I did."

The Trip and T'Pol he knew were loyal to their captain and mindful of their responsibilities. Although Archer never expressed his own feelings for T'Pol, Trip should have known she was off-limits. She was _his_ first officer. It was her duty to be there when _he_ needed her. Trip should have respected that. 

It was a visible effort for Trip to stay in his seat. "Are we going to get into that again? Phlox already told you neither of us had anything to do with this."

Archer straightened his shoulders, his eyes narrowing in accusation. "Phlox said there was some help in creating the hybrid, but that doesn't mean there hasn't been more going on with you two. You have been spending an awful lot of time together."

"The neuropressure sessions were begun at Dr. Phlox's behest to aid the commander's sleep. There has been no romantic involvement as a result," T'Pol provided, her voice calm as ever. There were times when her Vulcan stoicism only succeeded in making Archer more upset. 

This was no exception. 

"Right. Some unknown entity abducted you, performed a pretty sophisticated procedure to create a Human-Vulcan hybrid, and returned you where they found you without so much as a note explaining who or why or anything." Archer leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk. "Doesn't that seem a little far-fetched to you?"

"Of course it's far-fetched. It's like out of some freakin' science fiction plot." Trip's restraint vanished as he stood up and towered over the desk. "It scares the hell out of me to think that someone out there has the power to not only erase our memories, but to create another being without our consent. They've taken the most basic and beautiful of nature's miracles and used us as guinea pigs." He sat down again. "You think you're having a hard time with this? Put yourself in my shoes. Or T'Pol's."

No matter how much Archer wanted to believe this entire mess was the fault of surging hormones and an appalling lack of duty, he couldn't ignore the distress in Trip's voice. Nor could he ignore his own responsibility. Placing blame on Trip and T'Pol was neither productive or healthy to the current situation or the mission.

"I'm sorry, Trip. T'Pol." He leaned back, voice tired. "I'm still not sure if I entirely believe this...but I want to trust both of you. There isn't much we can do right now, about how this happened. Our focus should be what we're going to do in eight months..."

"Ten." 

"Ten? What d'ya mean 'ten'?" Trip asked, looking at T'Pol. "Just how long is that bun in the oven?"

"The Vulcan gestation period is almost eleven months," she explained.

"Eleven months?" Trip threw up his hands in exasperation, real or mocking Archer wasn't sure. "You people can't do anything the easy way, can you?" 

"And 'you people' do not realize that not everything must be done in rash fashion," T'Pol countered. 

For a moment -- brief as it was -- things were normal again. 

But then, just as quickly, Archer was reminded what they were talking about. 

~ ~ ~

Trip knew Archer was mad at him. Hell, if he were in the captain's shoes, he'd be pretty mad, too. Even with Phlox's medical data and his and T'Pol's testimony to the contrary, he didn't expect anyone to believe that her pregnancy was the result of anything other than their own reckless behavior. 

But Archer was more willing to talk than Trip had thought he would be. The way he'd stormed out out of Sickbay, though not unexpected, hadn't given him much hope for this conversation.

And after a rocky start, things seemed to be going pretty well. 

"There's no guarantee we'll have completed this mission in ten months," Archer said, his voice grave. "I don't think the _Enterprise_ is any place to raise a baby, let alone while we're still in the Expanse." 

"Nor do I." T'Pol agreed. "But there is little choice in the matter. We will simply have to 'make the most' of the situation, as Humans are fond of saying."

While she spoke, Trip couldn't help but notice the hand she'd placed on her abdomen. There wasn't much to see there -- she still seemed flat as a board to him -- but that connection to the baby must be pulling out her maternal instincts. 

And maybe he was developing some paternal ones of his own. When they'd first entered the captain's office, he'd fought the urge to pull out T'Pol's chair for her. He'd told her earlier that they were in the same boat, and he meant it, but Trip was pretty sure if he tried rowing for her she'd probably dump him overboard. 

T'Pol paused in the middle of what she was saying and looked at him and he wondered if he'd laughed out loud at the mental image of them in the "paternity boat."

Jon didn't seem to have noticed, though.

Arching an eyebrow at him, she continued. "We must not forget the party responsible. There are still many unknowns to consider, many of which only they can answer."

"I already told you we can't go back to investigate," Archer reminded her. He seemed genuinely sorry for it, too.

T'Pol wasn't hindered. "I doubt we would find anything even if we did. However, I would like to review the scans taken during Mr. Reed's search. Perhaps we can uncover something that will help us to identify them or their intent."

Trip looked at T'Pol with surprise. His attention had been focused almost solely on what to do about the baby; he hadn't done a lot of thinking about _who_ had done this and _why_. Obviously T'Pol, in that wonderful multitasking mind of hers, had. Not only that, but she even had an idea of how to track them down. 

Even if it was kind of a long shot. "You really think we'll find anything?"

"We will not know unless we look," she answered. "There are several questions to this child's origins. Why was this hybrid created? Who was responsible? How did they know enough about Human and Vulcan physiology for successful conception? Why were we the chosen contributors? What was their plan for the hybrid? Perhaps by reviewing the security logs I will be able to uncover some answers."

Archer nodded in agreement. "I'll ask Malcolm to pull together everything he has."

"You going to tell him why?" Trip asked, wondering briefly what the Englishman's reaction was going to be -- what anyone's reaction was going to be -- when they found out about the baby.

"That's up to the two of you," Archer answered. "It's going to come out eventually, but I'm sure you'd like some time to get used to the idea before you have defend yourself to the rest of the crew.

"Frankly," he hesitated a moment, "They're as likely to believe you as I was."

_Was_. That meant he believed them now, right? Trip wasn't in danger of the wrath of Archer in the near-future? At least, not for this? He searched his friend's face before turning to T'Pol. 

Without her saying anything, Trip could tell that she wasn't quite ready to share their secret with anyone, yet. How he knew that, he wasn't exactly sure, but he found he didn't like the idea much, either. 

"I think we'd better hold off, Cap'n. At least a little while."

~~~  
More to come...including reactions from the rest of the crew and some complications.  


Oh, by the way, while we're at it...  
POLLS OPEN FOR ONE MORE CHAPTER (which translates to one more week)  
If you would like to vote for baby gender...please e-mail me (joycelyn_solo@hotmail.com) with a subject of either:

"Cultural Addition: It's a GIRL!!"

- or -

"Cultural Addition: It's a BOY!!"

Be sure to submit a review to FF.N, too, but votes must be e-mailed (makes it more of a surprise than if y'all can tally the votes yourselves). 


	5. The voices in my head

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.   
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references. Though I _loved_ "Similitude," it doesn't fit with this story's progression of our favorite couple's romance and will be ignored.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub -- the bestest beta  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Five - It's hard to hear over the voices in my head**

The middle of ship's night found T'Pol seated at the console in the Command Center, running through the information Lieutenant Reed had provided of his investigation into her and Commander Tucker's disappearance two months ago.

No matter the different search parameters she attempted, she had been unable to discover anything new in the two weeks she had analyzed the planetary scans. Though she held Reed's skills as a security officer in high regard, T'Pol had felt confident she would be able to glean at least something useful from reviewing the data herself.

Unfortunately, even her scientific background failed to yield anything that would shed light on those missing three days.

T'Pol cleared the the screen, getting ready to input the next set of search parameters. As she did so, she experienced the singularly unusual sensation of her growing frustration mirrored back along the bond she shared with the hybrid child.

The mother-to-be was not sure if it was simply being eight-weeks-pregnant -- or being eight-weeks-pregnant with a half-Human child -- but she had never been so aware of her emotions.

It was a common misconception among non-Vulcans that their penchant for logic was a substitute for a lack of emotion. On the contrary, Vulcans possessed some of the fiercest emotions -- which is why they strove to keep them in check. It was only the introduction of Surak and his teachings of mediation and control that allowed Vulcan to evolve past its bloody past.

T'Pol found herself in an almost daily struggle to keep her emotions in check. Being with child, she was assaulted with feelings that were not hers alone, making her need for daily mediation even more important. However, the being within her made meditation most difficult and she felt more exhausted after an exercise meant to rejuvenate.

Phlox seemed to believe her body was still adjusting to the presence of the child and T'Pol would be able to resume her normal routine shortly.

She found his optimism less than reassuring.

Clearing her mind and taking a deep breath, she attempted to send calming thoughts to the baby. Despite the mystery surrounding the child's conception and the turmoil her mind and body had been thrown into, T'Pol could not help the deep connection she felt to the hybrid.

For a moment, she wondered if her own mother had felt the maternal bond this strongly. For the distance that had grown over the years, T'Pol could not recall feeling anything other than cherished to her parents as a child.

_What would their reaction be if they knew about you?_ Not for the first time, she found herself speaking to the child as though she expected a response. She knew it was not logical, but she found logic played little part in what she felt for the being inside her. Though she continued to search for answers of how the hybrid came to be, a part of T'Pol did not really care. The child was a part of her -- was hers.

Her baser maternal instincts didn't need any further scientific explanation.

But that did not mean she would halt her research. She and Commander Tucker had a right to know what had happened to them in those three days that resulted in the combination of their genetic material.

As her thoughts turned to the _Enterprise_ chief engineer, a surge of feeling erupted from the child. Was it possible for the baby to recognize his or her father, or, at least, thoughts of him? Or perhaps, again, the baby was playing off her own confused feelings for the complicated Human.

In the two weeks following Dr. Phlox's startling announcement, the commander had been more supportive than T'Pol would have expected. Though she had told him repeatedly that she did not require his assistance, Tucker maintained his insistence to take an active role in the pregnancy.

Being perfectly capable of remembering to take the prenatal supplements and seeing Dr. Phlox on a regular basis to monitor the baby's progress, T'Pol could have found the engineer's reminders wholly unnecessary and irritating.

But she didn't.

In truth, she was grateful. She would never say it aloud -- and barely admitted it to herself -- but his presence was an anchor amidst the torrent of uncertainty wrought by the pregnancy. 

In a weak moment, she had confided in him about her inability to properly meditate. It had been in the middle of one of their regular neuropressure sessions. He was laid out on the floor while she administered to the nodes along his spine, using the ancient Vulcan techniques to help the engineer find much-needed release from the the nightmares that plagued him.

The commander had been so quiet, T'Pol figured he'd fallen asleep -- not for the first time. When he asked her what was bothering her, she'd been startled enough to tell him. He surprised her even further by offering to perform the same technique on her, an offer he had not made before.

Remembering the feel of the engineer's hands as they applied pressure to her neck and shoulders, T'Pol felt herself relax in her chair, the computer screen in front of her forgotten.

She was not sure how long she sat that way, but it wasn't until she heard the sound of the door closing behind her that she realized someone else had entered the Command Center.

As lost in her thoughts as T'Pol had been, she did not need to turn around to know who her visitor was. "Good evening, Commander."

"I had a feeling I'd find you down here," Commander Tucker admonished, coming to stand beside the console. He looked down at her, a slight frown on his lips. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I could ask the same of you." T'Pol tilted her head to look up at him, noticing the shadows beginning to form under his eyes. "I had not realized you were having difficulty sleeping again. Should we add another night of neuropressure?"

"Lack of neuropressure has nothing to do with why I can't sleep." He sighed heavily, taking a seat in the vacant chair next to her. "You've been over these records a dozen times. What are you hoping to find?"

T'Pol thought it quite obvious. "I am looking for answers to our disappearance."

"You're not going to get any answers here, T'Pol. No matter how many times you run the data through."

"It is true my previous analyses have failed to yield any results --"

"You've been in here every night for the past two weeks," he cut her off. "That's not healthy -- for your or for the baby."

"I fail to see how research is detrimental to our health."

Trip picked up a PADD and waved it about, as though hoping it's blank screen would help prove his point. "'Because every time one of your searches comes back negative, you get frustrated and it's upsetting the baby."

"Vulcans do not get frustrated," she protested.

"The hell they don't. Why do you think I can't sleep when you're down here?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know when and what you're feeling, T'Pol. Ever since the baby --" He dropped the PADD back onto the console. "You said yourself that Vulcan parents develop a bond with their children."

"You are not Vulcan."

"Tell that to the baby, 'cause he or she let's me know when mommy's not taking care of herself."

T'Pol was silent for many moments, sorting the implications of this new development in her mind. "I had not realized...I did not know it was possible."

"Me neither," he confessed. "Kind of freaked me out when I realized the baby was talking to me."

"The baby talks to you?"

"No, not really 'talks.' More like impressions and feelings that aren't really mine."

"That may actually explain why I have not been able to meditate." She took a deep breath, allowing him to see some of the strain she was feeling. "The baby has connected us. I have been unable to focus my thoughts because they are not all my own."

"Plus you've got to filter through my pesky Human emotions." Trip grinned. "That's gotta be a headache."

"Indeed," T'Pol answered, a ghost of amusement lighting her eyes. "This may also explain why..."

"Why we feel better in each other's company?" Trip rubbed a hand through his hair, causing several pieces to stick up at odd angles. "Yeah, I think the baby's happiest when both parents are near."

"That could be quite difficult if we hope to keep this secret for any longer."

"Maybe it shouldn't be a secret anymore." The commander's shoulders fell, as though the weight of carrying the secret the last two weeks were catching up to him. "I think we've both had enough time to get used to the idea and it's not like waiting is going to make it any easier to deal with everyone's reactions."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "You expect adverse reactions?"

"Don't you? I'd be real surprised if anyone took our story at face value. But we both know the truth, and that's all that really matters. That and the baby."

The nod of T'Pol's head was almost imperceptiple, but Trip didn't need to see it to know she agreed with him. He could feel the affect of their decision, as though layers of stress had been peeled away from both their souls.

This bond they shared was going to take some getting used to. He wondered what other surprises were in store...

~~~  
More to come...

Thank you to everyone who voted for the baby's gender. You've got a couple chapters until you find out the results, but I'm sure you're all patient enough to stick around, right?

And thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this story. I never really thought I'd turn into one of those fan fic authors who lives for reviews -- but I have. So, if you liked this/hated it/have some constructive comment I'd love to hear from you. 


	6. A laughing matter

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **I'll be referencing some plot aspects from the Expanse, but the overall arc is definitely of my own creation.  
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the super beta  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Six - A laughing matter**

For as complicated as warp travel was from an engineering perspective, working the bridge shift during high-warp was surprisingly quiet. 

Seated at his console, Travis Mayweather found that, for once, he didn't mind the fact that he didn't have a whole lot to do as the ship pretty much flew itself toward the coordinates he'd inputted hours ago. 

During lulls like this, Travis would usually busy himself with navigational calculations or simulations he could run while still staying aware of the ship's course. 

That morning, however, Travis was using the time to mull over the news Captain Archer had shared with the crew. 

Sub-Commander T'Pol was pregnant...and Commander Tucker was the father. 

If that wasn't a shocker, the captain went on to inform them that the baby had nothing to do with inappropriate relations between the part of the two senior officers, but was the result of some alien experimentation. 

Before making his general announcement, the captain briefed the command crew with the full story; or at least as much as Phlox, Commander Tucker, T'Pol and the captain could figure out. Even with Phlox's medical assurances, it was had to believe the story -- no matter how much Travis wanted to trust the sub-commander and commander. 

Alien abductions and sexual experimentation -- it sounded like some cheesy plot Commander Tucker would have picked for Movie Night. 

Then again, Travis had spent three days searching for the science officer and engineer when they'd gone missing -- the same three days Phlox estimated the baby had been conceived. Hoshi and Lieutenant Reed had scanned every inch of the planet, not to mention having several teams investigating on foot. He found it unlikely the two of them could -- or would -- have stayed hidden without some outside interference.

Travis also found it highly doubtful that Commander Tucker or T'Pol would think of a insane story like that if they were just covering for inappropriate romantic involvement. Though the idea of an abduction was far-fetched, it just was crazy enough to be true.

Resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder, Travis could imagine T'Pol seated as she ever was; calm and poised as she reviewed status reports. Unlike Captain Archer, the sub-commander spent her time in the center seat actually sitting in the center seat. The captain was always pacing, looking over shoulders, sitting and then pacing again. Travis admired the _Enterprise_ CO, but sometimes his pent-up energy made it difficult for the rest of the bridge crew to concentrate. 

In fact, the captain had been full of an extraordinary amount of energy during the early-morning briefing. In addition to the usual pacing, it had almost seemed to Travis as though the older man was trying to avoid any type of contact with his second- and third-in-command. 

Travis and Hoshi had discussed once before how familiar the captain and T'Pol seemed, as though they had shared intimacies. Was it possible Captain Archer was jealous that the sub-commander was carrying Command Tucker's baby? 

The absurdity of that thought caused a small chuckle to escape Travis' lips -- which he then tried to cover with a cough. 

"Are you well, Ensign?" T'Pol asked, one eyebrow arching as she regarded the pilot. 

"I'm fine, sir," Travis answered, turning in his seat meet T'Pol's steady gaze. "The air's just a little dry up here is all." 

T'Pol tilted her head slightly in consideration. "I will make it a point to ask Commander Tucker to run a diagnostic on the environmental controls."

"Thank you, sir." Travis turned back to his console, ignoring the pointed look Hoshi shot him as he pulled up his latest nav calculations and put his mind back to piloting the ship.

~ ~ ~

_'The air's dry', my foot,_ thought Hoshi Sato as she regarded her fellow ensign seated at Navigation. She was certain she'd heard Travis laughing under those feigned coughs and, considering the morning's briefing, she couldn't imagine what about.

Did he think it was funny that Sub-Commander T'Pol was pregnant? Hoshi wasn't quite sure what her feelings were in regard to the news, but she was pretty sure humor was not one of them.

_Surprise_ basically covered it. 

Unlike a lot of the Humans aboard, Hoshi had studied the Vulcan language -- and culture -- to the deepest extent an outsider was allowed. She'd read ancient text and become acquaintances -- Vulcans did not make friends easily -- during her time on the desert planet. From all her studies she knew Vulcan stoicism had nothing to do with a lack of emotions, but an overriding need to control their emotions in the pursuit of logic. 

But just because a Vulcan had feelings didn't make it any easier to accept that one would develop feelings for a Human. Vulcan culture was steeped in centuries of tradition and few went against it. For T'Pol -- or any Vulcan -- to turn her back on her upbringing for the sake of a Human was highly unlikely. 

Of course, T'Pol had already demonstrated on several occasions that she did not always go along with Vulcan tradition. Her presence on _Enterprise_ was a prime example -- she chose loyalty over duty to remain on the ship; resigning her commission to the High Command. 

Or maybe it wasn't _just_ the ship's mission she stayed for...maybe T'Pol had stayed for another reason. She and the commander spent a lot of time together outside of regular duties and the neuropressure sessions had the rumor mill running overtime. 

Maybe...

no...

could they be...

As her mind wrestled with the thought, Hoshi began to believe it _was_ possible that there was more to T'Pol and Tucker's relationship.

For one thing, there was the neuropressure. From what Hoshi knew of the discipline -- which wasn't much -- it was a very private and intimate act, usually only performed between Vulcan couples or for medicinal purposes. According to Lieutenant Reed, who had foolishly tried to stop the rumors, T'Pol's ministrations were meant to help Commander Tucker sleep. 

One can only imagine where gutter-prone thoughts quickly turned with that defense. 

Secondly, none of the Vulcans Hoshi met would have put up with the commander's constant verbal challenges. Any of her acquaintances at the Vulcan Science Academy would have iced him down with a cool stare before turning away. 

As far as Hoshi could recall, Sub-Commander T'Pol never turned away when Commander Tucker wanted to mix words. In fact, several crewmen were known to stop what they were doing and watch the two go at it -- usually without either senior officer even noticing their audience. 

And, lastly, Hoshi saw the way Commander Tucker had seemed almost protective of T'Pol during the briefing. To the casual observer, there was nothing unusual about the science officer and engineer sitting next to each other in the command center. But to Hoshi, who studied body language as well as written and verbal, there was much more going on. 

The way the commander leaned almost imperceptibly into T'Pol's space...the way she allowed him to...the tilt of the sub-commander's head as she watched Tucker interrupt the captain's explanation on more than one point...the way he looked to her before speaking.... 

_Oh my god_. Now that she looked closely enough, Hoshi could see Sub-Commander T'Pol and Commander Tucker were broadcasting signals with more power than those buoys _Enterprise_ was using to stay in contact with Starfleet. 

Alien abduction and medical science aside, there was definitely something going on between those two. How could she not have seen it before?

Hoshi couldn't help the giggle that bubbled from her lips and -- following the example set by Travis -- tried lamely to cover the outburst with a cough.

"Is the air too dry for you as well, Ensign?" T'Pol asked, arching her eyebrow as she regarded the communications officer. 

"I think Ensign Mayweather was right, Sub-Commander. The air is dry in here."

T'Pol nodded her head and resumed reading the PADD in her hand as Hoshi ignored the look Travis shot her. 

When their shift was over, they could both trade what they had found so amusing.   


~~~  
Just because this one took so long...there's a bonus chapter coming this week! Yay! 


	7. What was so funny?

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the super beta  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Seven - What *was* so funny?**

As T'Pol stepped into the turbolift at the end of her shift, she wondered about the coughing-fits that seemed to seize several members of the bridge crew. Though she had not noticed anything unusual about the environmental conditions, she would make mention of it to Commander Tucker. Humans, she found, were quite sensitive.

Pressing the control panel for Engineering, the sub-commander made a final glance back to the bridge and was not surprised to find several pairs of eyes watching her departure. As the turbolift began its descent, she leaned against the wall and allowed herself a moment to relax. Despite not showing any outward signs of her pregnancy, the internal signals were enough to tax every method of control she had. Sitting in the command seat for hours had been torture as the muscles in her back worked to compensate the burden she would eventually carry. Unlike Human pregnancies, Vulcan physiology prepared itself early so that the body's energy could be focused on the maturing fetus in later months. In addition to the physical changes, T'Pol was still becoming accustomed to wading through the different thoughts and emotions in her mind.

The baby she had become used to, Commander Tucker she had not.

At his own request, T'Pol was teaching the engineer to meditate and temper his thoughts so that he wasn't broadcasting them to her. She'd been surprised at how quickly he took to the lessons, but did concede that neuropressure and the mental disciplines shared some basic fundamentals.

Still, as far as she knew, no Human had ever been introduced to either aspect of Vulcan culture. Perhaps her people gave the Humans too little credit.

Then again, she amended as the turbolift slowed to a stop and she again straightened her spine, one could not judge an entire species by on individual.

It was possible that Commander Tucker was simply an extraordinary Human.

~ ~ ~

Whistling a nameless tune, the extraordinary Human strolled into the Armory and was surprised to see at least a dozen officers tending to various tasks.

Seeing the head of _Enterprise_ security, Trip made his way over to him.

"Hey, Malcolm," the engineer greeted, sidestepping a young ensign as she hurried to do her supervisor's bidding. "What's going on here?"

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed looked up from the inventory list. "I figured since I can't really use any of the weapons systems right now, we'd redecorate the Armory."

Trip stared for a moment, not sure whether the younger man was joking or not. He shook his head, ignoring the image of tapestries hanging from the scaffolding that popped into his head. "I heard you wanted to see me. What can I do for you?"

"You didn't need to come up here to answer my question, Commander. I merely wanted to know when I can expect to have the phase cannons back online."

"Rodriguez and Hess should have them done in a couple more hours," Trip replied eyeing two security officers as they walked by carrying a case of phase rifles. "You had a chance to try out the grappler modifications, yet?"

"I can't very well grapple something while the ship's moving at warp speed, can I?" Malcolm shrugged. "I'm sure your improvements are adequate."

"Adequate? Malcolm -- they're the specs you wanted," Trip protested. "What's eatin' you this morning?"

"Afternoon," Malcolm corrected, turning away to address a question from a junior-grade lieutenant.

"What?" Trip asked, following the retreating security officer as he walked to the other end of the Armory.

Malcolm didn't bother turning as he answered, "It's afternoon, Commander. Not morning."

"Oh. Okay. Then what's eating you this _afternoon_?" Trip drawled, more than a little annoyed to be chasing the conversation.

"Nothing's 'eating' me, Commander, I --"

"That's the third time you've called me 'commander' since I got here two minutes ago. You wanna tell me what the problem is?" Trip stopped short. "Wait a minute -- does this have to do with me and T'Pol?"

Malcolm turned abruptly and regarded the engineer. "I thought there was no 'you and T'Pol.'"

"So that _is_ what this is about." Trip crossed his arms over his chest defensively, anticipating a lecture from his friend. In hopes of getting it started and over with as quickly as possible, Trip asked, "What's the matter, Malcolm? You still got a crush on T'Pol?"

Malcolm's face reddened a bit. "First of all, I never had a crush on the sub-commander. I merely stated that she had a nice bum. And secondly," he turned and began walking away again, "nothing is the matter."

Trip continued the pursuit. "You're acting like there's something the matter."

"And you're acting like nothing's changed."

"What?" Trip stopped short again, noticing the curious stares from Malcolm's crew. "Y'think we should go someplace else to talk about this?"

"Why would you want to do that, _Trip_? It's not like we just discussed the intimate details of the past month during a staff meeting? Why would you have a problem discussing anything in front of my staff?"

Trip stared hard at the security officer. "I really have no idea what you're talking about, Malcolm. What did I do to tick you off?"

"It's what you _didn't_ do." Malcolm handed the PADD he was holding to a nearby crewman and walked toward an unoccupied wall. When Trip joined him, the lieutenant lowered his voice so the group working in the vicinity could not hear them.

Trip waited expectantly for Malcolm to begin, but then gave up and prompted, "Well?"

"If you must know...I didn't appreciate finding out about your pending parenthood from Captain Archer during a ship's briefing. You've known for a month that T'Pol was pregnant and you kept the information to yourself. First of all, as head of security, I should have been informed of such a grievace breach. Not to mention that my closest friend abord _Enterprise_ is going to be a father."

"Malcolm, I --"

"The safety of this crew is my responsibility, Trip. When you and T'Pol were missing, I felt I had failed the ship and my friend. When we found you, it was almost enough that nothing had bad happened to either of you. It turns out you were abducted -- violated -- and no one saw fit to inform the head of security?"

Trip's gaze fell to the tips of his boots, studying them intently. "I never really thought about that, Malcolm. I'm sorry. T'Pol and I weren't ready to tell anyone at first."

Malcolm nodded his head slowly in understanding.

Thinking they'd spent enough time talking about their feelings in the middle of the Armory, Trip asked in a joking tone, "So you're not really jealous of me and T'Pol?"

The lieutenant tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "Is there something to be jealous of?"

"No, not really. I mean, sure, we're having a baby together and -- " Trip trailed off and his mouth hanging open in surprise at the conclusion he'd just come to.

Malcolm grinned widely at his friend, seeing that he'd finally come to the conclusion many members of the crew were already drawing. Turning to rejoin his workers, he said over his shoulder, "You will, of course, name me godfather when the little bundle of joy arrives, won't you?"

~ ~ ~

In a bit of a daze, Trip walked back toward Engineering with his thoughts intent on the epiphany he'd had in the Armory.

Despite his declaration and efforts to be there for T'Pol in the past weeks, he hadn't given any true thought to his motivation behind it and what that meant for the future; how things would really be after the baby arrived.

For now, things were fine while they were aboard _Enterprise_ -- despite the danger of their current mission -- but the starship was no place for a family. What _were_ they going to do when the mission was over -- if they lived through it, at any rate. There was no guarantee that any of them was going to leave the Expanse.

_Don't go thinking those kinds of thoughts there, Trip,_ he chastised himself. _It's things like that that upset the baby_. Redirecting his thoughts, Trip tried imagining that the mission was over and Earth was safe.

What then?

Trip'd worked his entire adult life to be part of the Warp 5 Project. Could he really throw all that away? Of course, he didn't have to be _on_ a starship to design an engine for one. He was sure the boys back home could use some real-world experience to help them iron out some of the bugs in the lab simulations. But would T'Pol be up for settling on Earth? She'd spent a couple months at most in San Francisco before coming aboard _Enterprise_. He never thought to ask her what she thought of it; if she ever thought of calling Earth 'home.'

And could he really ask her that? She'd already sacrificed so much of who she was. As much as he liked to see her softening up toward the crew, he knew she lost a bit of what made her Vulcan with every concession she made. Should T'Pol be the one to sacrifice everything? Could he really ask her to give up everything for him and their child? Was he willing to make the same sacrifice?

Mired be even deeper thoughts than he was ready for, Trip was surprised to find he'd already arrived outside his office in Engineering. T'Pol was teaching him how to center his thoughts and block out the rest of the world for meditation, he didn't expect he'd ever start walking around while stuck in his own head.

Pressing the release on the door, Trip was a bit surprised by the sight of a shapely back clad in purple velour seated in his chair as she rearranged a stack of PADDs he'd been meaning to look over.

"Those your nesting instincts kickin' in?" he asked, stepping into the office moving to the other seat.

At T'Pol's raised eyebrow, Trip clarified, "Some Human mothers go on cleaning sprees when they're expecting. I thought maybe you were having a nesting fit."

"No, I am not having a 'nesting fit.' I came to report a possible problem with the environmental controls on the bridge."

"Really? Y'havin' hot flashes, now, too?"

Again she didn't seem to understand what he was talking about, so he cut her some slack and asked why she was cleaning his office. "Lieutenant Hess was able to handle diagnostic and informed me you would be back momentarily. I wondered if you would care to join me for lunch after my appointment in Sickbay."

Thinking that the two of them had a lot to talk about -- when didn't they? -- Trip smiled, "That sounds like a great idea, actually. Why don't I come with you to see Phlox?"

T'Pol looked at him a moment, as though trying to read his expression, before agreeing.

"Great. Just let me --" Trip grabbed the top-most PADD from the pile T'Pol had so neatly arranged and quickly scanned the screen. "You made a report of all my reports."

"I thought they would be more easily accessible if your logs were better organized," T'Pol offered, stepping to the door and waiting for him to join her.

"I don't know what Vulcans call it, but you're definitely doing some nesting."

~~~  
More to come... 


	8. Spunky, the hairless rat

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the super beta  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Eight - Spunky, the hairless rat**

When the commander offered to accompany her to Sickbay, T'Pol had the distinct impression there was something he wanted to talk about. She knew there was something on his mind, having sensed the weight of his thoughts even before he'd entered his office in Engineering.

T'Pol had remained quiet as they walked to Sickbay, giving Commander Tucker opportunity to broach the discussion she was sure he wanted to have, but he remained uncharacteristically quiet.

When she entered Sickbay with the commander in tow, Dr. Phlox had seemed quite pleased. Despite the fact that T'Pol was the one carrying the child, the two men talked as though she hadn't been in the room. Even when she emerged from behind the privacy screen, clad in garb more suited for a thorough examination, Phlox had continued speaking to the engineer and barely paid any attention to T'Pol as he attached the fetal monitor to her exposed abdomen.

If she'd thought about it logically, it was understandable that Phlox would take the time to discuss the pregnancy with the child's father. Commander Tucker had not been to Sickbay since the discovery of the child and it was natural for the doctor to apprise him of the hybrid's progress.

However, T'Pol was not feeling wholly logical or understanding and, in fact, found herself irritated that both males acted as though she wasn't there. For as non-communicative as the commander had been moments before, he seemed at no loss for conversation as he questioned Phlox about everything from the supplements she was taking to other species' gestation periods.

Despite her irritation at being ignored -- and her irritation at being irritated -- T'Pol found the engineer's curiousity and concern gratifying. No matter how many times she told him she did not need or expect his involvement with the pregnancy, Commander Tucker reassured her that he had every intention of being a part of it.

But what about _after_?

T'Pol did not expect that the commander would want to leave Starfleet to raise a child, misplaced sense of responsibility or no. He was at the prime of his profession -- chief engineer of the first warp five engine. Even she was impressed by his knowledge of warp theory and knack for working around the laws of physics. Commander Tucker was a truly gifted man with a promising career. He could not -- she would not allow him to -- give that up.

With that decision made, T'Pol focused on what _she_ was going to do after the child was born. Despite Captain Archer's assurance that _Enterprise_ needed her, the sub-commander's time aboard the Human vessel could not last forever. With the completion of the Xindi mission, she would have to leave.

Where she would go was another matter.

By herself, T'Pol was a blemish to Vulcan society. With a half-Human child, she would most likely be promoted to outcast. It was difficult to determine if she would even be welcome on her home planet; by her own family. Breaking her engagement to Koss...resigning her commission...having a Human's baby...Pa'nar...Even if she tried, T'Pol doubted there was more she could do to bring shame to her family.

Not that shaming them had been her intention. Maybe Soval had been correct about the Humans. They were a bad influence on her.

T'Pol was pulled from her thoughts as the comm sounded for Dr. Phlox.

Stepping to the wall unit, Phlox answered, "This is Sickbay."

"Doctor? It's Isley in Botany. We're having trouble with that Orcanian ivy you donated. Can you come up here?"

Phlox frowned. "I'm with a patient. What seems to be the problem, Crewman?"

"Well, sir, the ivy keeps...uh...well, it bit me, sir, and now it's intimidating the rest of the plants."

The Denobulan gave the expectant parents a helpless look.

"Commander Tucker and I can wait, Doctor. It sounds as though Crewman Isley's problem is more...serious."

Phlox pressed the comm once more. "I'll be right there, Crewman. Please do not make any sudden movements."

~ ~ ~

After Phlox left, Trip became fascinated by the creatures that lined one wall of Sickbay and decided to study them intently.

Though his intention for joining T'Pol for her appointment had been to discuss their -- his, hers and the baby's -- future, he hadn't quite figured out how best to bring it up.

As he frowned at the hairless rat-looking thing in one of the larger cages, Trip sensed T'Pol's impatience -- an improvement over the irritation she'd sent his way while he'd been talking to Phlox.

When the doctor had started explaining T'Pol's progress and the baby's health in such detail, Trip had welcomed the distraction from discussing more pressing matters. He hadn't intended to exclude the sub-commander from the discussion, it just sort of happened.

Now, with the doctor gone, silence descended upon Sickbay like a heavy blanket. Trip sure as hell didn't want to be the one to break --

"Is there something on your mind, Commander?" T'Pol asked.

_Figures she wouldn't leave it,_ Trip thought, turning to regard her before turning back to the rodent -- whom he'd named 'Spunky' in Phlox's absence. "What makes you say that?"

"You seemed intent on joining me for this examination. I doubt it was simply because you enjoy tormenting the doctor's menagerie."

"I'm not tormenting them," Trip denied, leaving Spunky with a sigh and moving to take a seat on the stool next to the biobed. "I just find them fascinating."

"I was under the impression you found them disturbing."

"Fascinating. Disturbing." Trip shrugged. "They're just interesting."

"And easier focal points than whatever it is that is occupying your thoughts."

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly. "There's that, too."

The engineer shifted uncomfortably on the stool, stood abruptly and began pacing in front of T'Pol. After a few laps, Trip stopped and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, T'Pol, I guess you could say I had a bit of a revelation today. I've been saying from the beginning that I plan on being there for you and the baby, but we haven't really said where _there_ is going to be."

"I do not understand." T'Pol answered, though she had a feeling she _did_ understand.

Trig resumed his seat on the stool. "Have you given any thought to what we're going to do after the mission? If we _survive _this mission?"

"As a matter of fact, I was just thinking about that."

Trip didn't like how that sounded. "And did you figure anything out?"

"If this mission is successful, I will most likely return to Vulcan."

"You can't go to Vulcan," Trip protested, standing so quickly the stool was pushed back several feet.

"It is true I do not have the most favorable of reputations for Vulcan society, but my family would not turn me away. I doubt I could resume my post with the High Command, but perhaps I can apply for a position at the Science Academy."

Trip stared, openmouthed, at her. "Just like that? You're gonna run home to your family and become a teacher?"

"It seems the most logical of plans. There is little else I am qualified to do, especially with a child to support."

"And where do I fit into all this?"

"I have already told you, Commander, that I do not require or expect your assistance. I am grateful for all you've done so far, but you --"

"I'm not letting you or this baby get away that easily, T'Pol. I said I'm in this for the long-haul and I mean it."

"That is noble, but foolish, of you, Commander. You have a promising Starfleet career ahead of you, possibly a command of your own someday. You should not obligate yourself when there is no need."

"This isn't about obligation, T'Pol. This is about me, you and our baby."

"Commander --"

T'Pol stopped abruptly and both turned as Phlox returned to Sickbay. "I'm terribly sorry about that. I've warned Ensign Isley that Orcanian ivy can be territorial."

Noting that neither the sub-commander or commander seemed to be paying attention to his explanation, Phlox switched back to OB-mode, picked up his scanner and moved to the biobed. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes, I believe I was about to tell you the hybrid's gender."

"You were?" Trip asked, his attention drawn from frowning at T'Pol's stubborn Vulcan-self to the Denobulan. "You can tell already?"

"I believe so. You must remember that there is no exact obstetric science where hybrids are concerned, but I am relatively certain the child is female."

"Female?" Trip repeated, locking eyes with T'Pol and feeling the tension of their debate slipping away. "We're having a girl."

"Yes, Commander. That is what the doctor said." Though her face remained impassive, Trip could sense the same wonder he felt welling up inside the Vulcan.

Phlox smiled widely at parents-to-be. "To keep this little girl as healthy as possible, I want you to continue with the supplements I provided, Sub-Commander, and I would suggest that you endeavor to find more time to rest. I can speak with the captain if you would like --"

"That' okay, Doc," Trip interrupted, his gaze still locked on T'Pol's face. "I'm taking T'Pol to lunch and then her quarters as soon as we're done here."

"Then by all means," Phlox said, removing the fetal monitor and placing it on the table behind him. "I expect to see you in two days, Sub-Commander."

~~~  
_A couple of notes from the author:_  
1) I know next-to-nothing about babies, pregnancy or childbirth. The only experience I have with any of these is from television and the various discussions with women at work I really wish I hadn't walked in on.

2) There are several of us out there who, though it's never been confirmed in canon, believe that Ambassador Soval is also T'Pol's father. For the sake of the universe _this_ story takes place in, I'm going to treat this belief as fact.

3) Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. Your enthusiasm for _The Cultural Addition_ helps me to stay on schedule with posting a chapter every week, give or take a couple of days. Please keep the comments coming and I will endeavor to reward your kindness with timely updates. 


	9. Beware phase cannons

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the wonder beta  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Nine - Beware phase cannons**

It had been four months since Trip and T'Pol found out they were going to be parents; a month since they learned the hybrid was female.

In that time, both senior officers could be found in each other's company -- on duty and off -- as their respective commitments to the ship allowed.

Trip couldn't explain it, really, but he just knew that he felt more at ease when he was in T'Pol's presence. He didn't know if it was simply the pull of the paternal bond or other feelings he wasn't ready to study, but he _did_ know that he hadn't felt this content -- this whole -- since the Xindi attack on Earth and the death of his sister.

Thinking of Lizzie was still enough to form a lump in his throat, but he was no longer plagued with nightmares or the need to escape all human contact. It wasn't that he'd forgotten Lizzie -- never that -- but he'd learned in the last four months that life really did go on as long as those living _chose_ to continue _living_.

And, right now, he was living for his daughter.

It was still weird on a lot of levels to think that he was going to be a father. Even weirder to think that T'Pol was the mother of his child, but Trip could think of worse fates than a life with the Vulcan science officer. Granted, they'd yet to determine where that life was going to be or what it would entail, but, as T'Pol pointed out, they did have another seven months to figure it out.

In the meantime, Trip was proving his resolve to be a part of the child's life by accompanying T'Pol to see Phlox at least once a week and making sure the first officer was taking care of herself by eating right, getting enough rest and not standing in front of phase cannons.

"I will not be in front of any cannons, Commander," T'Pol corrected, her fork poised over the plate Trip had readied for her. "I will simply be helping Mr. Reed compile a list of supplies he would like to procure at the next availability."

"I don't want you standing in a room full of weapons with Malcolm," Trip said, repeating the protest he began shortly after T'Pol informed him over breakfast that she was headed for the Armory.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at him, though he didn't need the physical action to know she was irritated with him. He noticed in recent months of being connected through the bond that her emotions were becoming more pronounced, at least to him. He wondered if it had to do with the pregnancy or being connected to an emotional and irrational Human.

He hoped it was hormones from the pregnancy. He hated to think that their link was having a negative affect on her.

T'Pol watched as Trip paced the length of his quarters. She'd noticed in recent months that he'd taken to pacing as an outlet for his emotions, rather than blurting out whatever he happened to be thinking or feeling. "Do you not trust the lieutenant? I was under the impression he was your friend."

"He is my friend," Trip admitted, slowing his steps but continuing to walk back and forth before her. "That's why I know he can get a little excited when there's the potential to blow something up."

"I highly doubt that happening, Commander. Lieutenant Reed would not wish to diminish his supplies any further."

Trip gave her a look, seeing the futility of arguing further. She'd already accused him of hovering and he'd promised not to interfere with her duties.

Well, he promised to _try_ not to interfere with her duties.

And, as first officer, she'd been appointed to create an inventory from all departments so that when _Enterprise_ encountered a less-than-hostile planet they would know what to barter for and what they could barter with. They'd already been in the Expanse with no sign of the Xindi for six months. There was no telling how much longer they could survive on the supplies Starfleet stocked them with back on Earth.

"Eat the rest of your fruit," Trip finally acquiesced, "and I'll promise not to cut power to the Armory."

~ ~ ~

An hour later, Malcolm waited expectantly as T'Pol looked over the PADD he'd prepared. In addition to the supplies the Armory required, he'd added a list of suggestions for weapons upgrades based on what they knew of Xindi defenses -- which wasn't much -- and was interested to know what she thought of them.

"Your acquisition requests seem reasonable, Lieutenant." She advanced the PADD to the next screen, "And your theory about the Reptilian weapons is --"

"Sub-Commander, are you all right?" Malcolm asked, concerned as a grimace passed over her face.

With visible effort, T'Pol composed her features. "I do not believe the large breakfast Commander Tucker insisted I consume is agreeing with the hybrid."

Having shared morning meals with Trip, Malcolm could understand how anyone would have an upset stomach afterward. "Would you like to continue this some other time, perhaps?"

T'Pol took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she attempted to take control of her body. "No. The discomfort is subsiding."

"Very well," Malcolm agreed, though knowing she must be in tremendous pain to even admit it. If she insisted they continue, he could at least attempt to finish up quickly. He turned back toward the weapons locker, hand poised to key-in the security code --

There was a low groan and Malcolm turned in time to see T'Pol sink to the Armory floor.

"Sub-Commander!"

Moving quickly to the fallen Vulcan's side, he reached for a pulse -- and realized he hadn't the faintest idea where to even gauge it properly. He knew nothing of Vulcan physiology and was of little use to her.

He ran to the comm, signaling Dr. Phlox. "Sub-Commander T'Pol has collapsed. I'm bringing her to Sickbay."

Not waiting for a response, he pushed the door release, gathered the sub-commander into his arms and ran toward the turbolift.

~ ~ ~

_Engineering. Minutes before._

Ever since breakfast, Trip couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong -- or about to go wrong. Unable to pin down whatever was causing the feeling, he had his team running diagnostics on every system he could think of.

He was somewhat disappointed when all reports came back within acceptable parameters.

But he still felt something was wrong.

Which was unfortunate for Ensign Montgomery. Unable to appease his anxiety, Trip's patience had grown thin. And poor, unsuspecting Adam Montgomery, had no warning when he handed the chief engineer his diagnostic report.

"There's a reason Starfleet developed protocols for warp diagnostics," Trip growled, glaring at the perfectly adequate report Montgomery handed to him. "Do you think just because you didn't have the time to thoroughly document --"

Montgomery chanced speaking when Trip trailed off in mid-rant. "Sir?"

Trip ignored the crewman, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. _What the he_ --

And then it hit him, an explosion of clarity as he finally realized what was wrong. It hadn't been the engines. It had nothing to do with _Enterprise_.

It was the baby. The baby was in trouble.

T'Pol was in trouble.

His family needed him.

Montgomery watched as a white-faced Commander Tucker ran out of Engineering.

"What was that about?" Lieutenant Ana Hess asked, coming up beside Montgomery as Trip ran off.

Montgomery shrugged as the the comm sounded: "Phlox to Commander Tucker."

Hess and Montgomery looked at each other before Hess moved to the wall unit. "This is Lieutenant Hess, Doctor. Can I help you with something?"

"Where is Commander Tucker?" Phlox asked, stress obvious in the Denobulan's voice.

"He just ran out of here like the devil was at his heels, sir," Hess answered.  
  
There was a moment's pause. "Please tell him to report to Sickbay when you see him."

"Yes, sir," she answered and turned to Montgomery. "I have a feeling Commander Tucker is already on his way to Sickbay."

Montgomery nodded, picking up the PADD Trip had dropped in his haste.

~ ~ ~

Though the sub-commander was lighter than she looked, Malcolm wasn't sure how he was going to activate the turbolift without unsettling her or the hybrid.

If only they were equipped with motion sensors and voice-activation.

He nearly yelled with relief as he neared the end of the corridor and the turbolift door opened to reveal Trip Tucker.

Wordlessly, Trip held out his arms and took T'pol into his embrace, barely looking at security officer as he searched her face.

They were silent as the lift slowed and they walked to Sickbay, seeing Phlox standing outside the medical facility waiting for them.

"What happened?" the Denobulan asked, leading Trip to the biobed he'd prepared.

Malcolm recounted the events in the Armory as Phlox ran the scanner down the length of T'Pol's body. "She thought she had eaten something that didn't agree with her. Then she collapsed."

"What is it, Doc?" Trip asked as the doctor held the scanner over her abdomen.

"The womb has become unstable. I'm afraid her body is rejecting the hybrid."

"Can you stop it?" Trip asked.

His face grim, the doctor replied, "There are a number of things we can try...but are you sure, Commander?"

"You're talking about my kid in there!"

"I realize that, Commander. But as you also know, this baby is not a natural product. Perhaps this is the best for all concerned."

Trip's face contorted with pain, just as T'Pol's eyes opened. With great effort, she pushed herself up on the biobed. "You must save our child." Then, her energy spent, she collapsed onto the bed.

The engineer looked at Phlox, his face pleading. "That's all the answer you need, Doc. We don't care how the baby got in there, but we don't want her coming out until she's ready."

"Understood, Commander."

And Phlox got to work. 


	10. Recovery room hijinx

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the wonder beta  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Ten - Recovery room hijinx**

As many times as T'Pol had been rendered unconscious during her time on _Enterprise_, she still wasn't accustomed to the disorientation that came from waking without any true recollection of what put her under in the first place. 

Slowly, she opened her eyes and found the concerned face of _Enterprise _'s chief engineer above her. Noting his drawn features, her first instinct was to touch the reassuring presence of the child within her...

_That is unusual,_ she thought. The bond was intact, but there was something different, almost fragmented, about the presence within her. Not bothering to hide the confusion or concern from her voice, she asked, "The child?" 

The commander's features relaxed almost immediately at her question, putting some of her fear to rest. "Everything's fine," he assured, "Phlox'll give you the details when he gets back."

T'Pol looked around the recovery area, finding the doctor's absence unusual. "Where is Dr. Phlox?" 

The father of her child attempted a small smile as he said, "I pushed Malcolm down a turbolift to buy us a couple of minutes alone."

She was relatively sure he was only joking, but T'Pol admitted to herself that she still did not always understand the Human sense of humor. 

Sensing that his joke fell flat, the commander admitted, "I need to talk to you about something, T'Pol."

"Is there something wrong with our daughter?" she asked, using the child's gender for the first time aloud. Despite the maternal connection she felt, T'Pol had tried to maintain an outward appearance of scientific detachment. At that moment, laying on a biobed after nearly losing the small life within her, she found scientific detachment to be a waste of energy.

"I already told you everything's fine," the engineer reassured, running a hand through his hair. "This is different. I -- You gave me quite the scare, darlin'."

"It was not my intention," T'Pol answered, almost in apology. She attempted to sit up and, finding she lacked the strength, was grateful when he assisted her. 

"This has become more than someone's experiment, hasn't it? We could have easily allowed the miscarriage and both gotten on with our lives."

That was true, but T'Pol had a feeling her life wouldn't have been worth getting on with if she'd allowed the child to die. She laid a hand over her middle, protecting the mound that was -- for all that mattered -- their child. 

_Their child_, she thought, looking over at the commander as he struggled with whatever it was he wanted to say to her. _Their child._

"We still don't know who did this or why..." he continued, "But I don't think I really care. I've never been more scared in my life than when I thought we were going to lose her."

"Neither have I," she admitted quietly .

"The only thing that scared me more," the engineer gingerly touched T'Pol's chin, drawing her face to meet his. "Was when I thought I might lose you." 

Her eyes widened. Of all the things he could have said...that was certainly not expected. "Commander --"

"Don't say anything, T'Pol, please. I've had some realizations over the last couple of hours and I...I really just need to talk right now."

"Very well, Commander," T'Pol said, settling into the pillow and trying to hide some of the confusion she felt. "Talk."

~ ~ ~

Trip took a deep breath. 

He ran a hand through his hair. 

He took another deep breath.

_'Talk,' she says. That's easy for her to say, she doesn't know the hell I've been through._

Though the captain and doctor had urged him to get some rest, Trip had refused to leave T'Pol's side since she was transferred to Recovery. Despite his faith in Phlox, Trip couldn't really believe the Vulcan science officer was going to be okay until she told him herself. 

Sitting there, staring at her peaceful form, he had a lot of time to think about how much she'd come to mean to him over the last two years, in particular over the last four months. As much fun as it was to play "dad-to-be," he didn't think he'd be enjoying it nearly as much if it wasn't for T'Pol.  
  
"I know you think my wanting to be a part of this pregnancy is because of some obligation or misplaced sense of duty, but it's so much more than that. I realized today, sitting here, waiting for you to wake up that...sometime, somehow, I fell in love with you. It could have been this morning over breakfast, or it could have been the first time you wrinkled your nose at me...I don't really know, but now that I recognize what it is...it feels like forever."

Trip leaned back in his chair, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

He'd said it. 

He'd really said it. 

And he meant every word of it. 

He searched T'Pol's eyes, trying to gauge her response to his confession. At her silence, he admitted, "I don't expect you to feel the same -- I'm not even sure if you can -- but I just wanted you to know how I feel. I think it's important that you know that, no matter what, I'm here for the long-haul." 

T'Pol tilted her head to the side, as though studying him. At length, she said, "That sounds quite permanent, Commander."

"I mean it to sound permanent, T'Pol. Will you --"

"Ah, Sub-Commander, I'm glad to see you're awake." Phlox announced, coming into the recovery area. He picked up the scanner and proceeded to run it down the length of T'Pol's body -- a motion Trip had watched him perform several times over the past hours. "How do you feel?"

_No, T'Pol,_ Trip thought. What_ do you feel?_

An inscrutable expression on her face, T'Pol focused her attention on the doctor. "There do not seem to be any lingering effects. Commander Tucker assures me the child is well."

"Yes, Sub-Commander, your daughter is just fine," Phlox answered, smiling widely at Trip as he prepared to drop the bombshell he'd informed the engineer of shortly after surgery. "As is your son."

~ ~ ~

"Son?" T'Pol asked, reeling with her second shock since waking. First Commander Tucker's profession of love and now --

"Yes," Phlox replied, somewhat sheepishly. "I warned you it was difficult to properly gauge the progress of a hybrid. It wasn't until I was repairing the damage to the uterus that I discovered your daughter had company."

"We're having twins, T'Pol." The father of her child -- children -- didn't seem at all surprised by the doctor's announcement. 

"Twins," T'Pol repeated. That would explain why the bond to her child had felt so different to her now. In the beginning, they were likely of such similar minds that it had been difficult to determine one's thoughts from the other's. It would seem, however, that her children were beginning to form their own minds now. 

Her children.

T'Pol laid her hands over her abdomen, imagining she could feel the physical presence of the two lives within her. "Multiple births are an extremely rare occurrence on Vulcan."

"It is likely that whoever created the hybrids wanted to increase the chance of a viable embryo by implanting more than one," Phlox explained. "Now that I know there are two -- and only two -- in there, I've readjusted your supplements. I believe it was an iron deficiency that triggered the uterine instability."

The Denobulan turned to regard the _Enterprise_ engineer. "I expect you'll see that she gets plenty of rest, Commander?"

"I am sitting right here, Doctor," T'Pol reminded both men, wondering briefly why the two insisted on talking about her like she wasn't in the same room as them.

"Don't you worry, Doc," the commander assured, moving closer to the biobed. "I plan on keeping a close eye on her. In fact, I think it's about time we talked about sharing quarters. Wouldn't it be more logical considering all the time we've been spending -- and are going to spend -- together?"

The audacity of his suggestion was enough to render T'Pol speechless as the two males shared a look she didn't even want to contemplate the meaning of. 

Perhaps later, when she was better rested, she could talk some sense into the stubborn Human 


	11. I got a noisy neighbor

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


  
  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the wonder beta   
  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Eleven - I got a noisy neighbor**

The threat of nearly losing the child she carried had affected T'Pol to her very core. In addition to the pain she'd felt physically, she had experienced fear and pain as it gripped the life within her. T'Pol's relief upon waking -- feeling the reassuring presence of the paternal bond -- was almost as overwhelming as the terror she'd experienced before slipping into unconsciousness. 

Feeling that bond now, the expectant mother marveled at the two lives within her. Even with two days in Sickbay to become accustomed to the fact she was having twins, T'Pol found it difficult to believe that she'd carried both children for twenty weeks without realizing there were two of them.

Though, as she'd explained to Phlox and the commander, multiple births were unheard of on Vulcan. There was no reason for her to think there could be two lives within her. If she'd been able to properly meditate, she may have been able to focus more clearly and discovered the individual essences. 

Her fragmented thoughts had been the source of many surprises she would -- or should -- have otherwise seen. Perhaps if she had been more in control of her own emotions, she would have noticed the increased attachment the _Enterprise_ chief engineer apparently held for her. 

_Not simply an 'attachment,'_ T'Pol reminded herself. _He said he loved me_. 

The Human concept of love was one that often eluded her, even after watching several films of the genre during Movie Night. Vulcan coupling revolved around arranged marriages and the need to procreate -- not flowery ideals of passion and romance. 

T'Pol cast a glance at the commander as he escorted her from Sickbay to her quarters. She'd insisted she did not need his help in finding her quarters after only two days under Phlox's care, but the stubborn Human had been insistent. T'Pol had also informed him that she did not require his company during her time in Sickbay, but the commander had refused to leave except for his duty shifts on the Bridge and in Engineering.

Despite the amount of time he'd spent with her, the engineer had not made any further overtures of affection to her nor had he made reference to his earlier confession. Perhaps the stress of the situation had compelled him to share his feelings; perhaps he did not truly experience those feelings. 

The commander had not made further mention of his idea that they share quarters, either, for which T'Pol was grateful. She knew his intentions were noble, but T'Pol doubted she could handle living with --

"Welcome home, T'Pol."

Pulled from her thoughts, T'Pol found they had arrived at her quarters. She was surprised he'd managed to remain quiet for the entire walk and, even more so, that she'd found been so lost in her own thoughts that she had not been aware of her surroundings. 

"Thank you for the escort, Commander." Attempting to cover her lapse in attention, T'Pol keyed the door open and stepped inside. When the door did not close behind her, she turned to see him still standing in the corridor. She raised an eyebrow at his break in routine. She couldn't remember the last time he had not simply followed her into the cabin. 

Not moving, the engineer said, "I've got some schematics to look over and you should get some rest."

"I have rested enough, Commander," T'Pol protested. "There are several reports that need my attention. I have been under the doctor's care enough times to know that paperwork stops for no one."

"Just don't do too much, okay? I don't want you to push yourself too hard after only two days."

"I sincerely doubt crew reports will be overly taxing, Commander."

"Just take it easy, okay? I'm right next door if you need me."

"Your cabin is two decks and three sections away," T'Pol reminded him.

"Not anymore." He smiled. "After your little episode, I thought it might be a good idea if I was closer. So I switched."

"What about Crewman Helenski?" T'Pol asked, referring to the anthropologist who resided next door.

"He's fine. He's living in a senior officer's quarters now. He's got almost twice the space."

"Meaning that you have half the space." 

"I never spent that much time in my cabin, anyway." The engineer shrugged. "Besides, it was worth the trade to be closer to you and the twins. The three of you are more important than having room to play floor hockey in the privacy of my quarters." 

- - -

Two hours after Commander Tucker left T'Pol in her quarters, Ensign Hoshi Sato pressed the door announcer and waited for the sub-commander to answer. 

As she stood in the corridor, Hoshi debated with herself once again if it was such a good idea to bother T'Pol so soon after her release from Sickbay. She knew Phlox wouldn't have cleared the first officer if he didn't think she wasn't up for fulfilling her duties, but she had undergone a pretty terrible ordeal only forty-eight hours ago. That wasn't a lot of time to fully recover from nearly losing a child.

Of course, maybe T'Pol would appreciate the distraction. In theory, Vulcans didn't dwell on things and healed much faster than Humans -- but Hoshi had noticed the maternal glow that surrounded the science officer. Vulcan or not, no mother could be expected to deal with a fright like that in such a short time. Plus, if Hoshi used her last extended stay in Sickbay as an example, she'd been crazy for a distraction by the time Phlox released her. 

T'Pol could probably deal well with a distraction right about now.

When the door slid aside to reveal the Vulcan mother-to-be, Hoshi smiled brightly. 

"Can I help you, Ensign?" Though T'Pol did not return the smile, she did not show signs of disapproval for it either. 

"If you're feeling up to it, I thought you might be able to help me with something."

T'Pol stepped aside, allowing Hoshi room to enter the cabin. She'd only seen the first officer's quarters once before and they were as immaculately maintained as she remembered. Looking around, she frowned at the stack of PADDs on the sub-commander's desk. 

"If you're busy catching up, I can come back later," Hoshi said, indicating the desk.

"That is not necessary. I have reviewed each of the reports and found that Commander Tucker has already dealt with them."

Hoshi wasn't sure, but she almost thought she heard a trace of disappointment in T'Pol's voice. Knowing the Vulcan work ethic, T'Pol had probably been looking forward to reviewing the crew reports and getting back to ship's business. 

"That was certainly thoughtful of the commander," Hoshi offered. "Because now you can help me with the communications relay."

One eyebrow rose in curiosity.

"As you know, we've been pretty lucky that we've been able to communicate with Starfleet for as long as we have, but it's been a week since we sent our last transmission with no response from Earth."

"Are the buoys we've deployed intact?"

"I think so. I'm getting a strong signal from the closest two with only marginal degradation toward the edge of the Expanse. But even allowing for the delays in relaying through so many beacons, we should have heard something two days ago. If we've lost contact with Starfleet, we're really on our own."

T'Pol was quiet for a moment as she seemed to think about the problem. "Though I believe we are perfectly capable of carrying out this mission 'on our own,'" she began, "I believe there is one option we can attempt before making that determination."

"Really?" Hoshi asked, surprised that the science officer -- no matter how brilliant she was -- had found an answer so quickly. 

"I was working on a theory for strengthening our sensor range by linking long-range sensors to the communications array. However, we may be able to boost the communications signal by linking it into the ship's sensors."

"Because they both work on the same algorithm," Hoshi said, seeing where T'Pol was going, "integrating the two would intensify the strength of both."

"In theory," T'Pol added.

"Right," Hoshi agreed. "In theory."

"If you will accompany me to the Command Center, we can collect my calculations and apply them to the communications array in Engineering."

"Sounds like fun," Hoshi said, then remembered who she was talking to. "I mean, sounds like it might solve our communications problem."

"I also believe solving our communications problem would be gratifying, Ensign."

_Did T'Pol just agree with me that this was going to be _fun_?_ Hoshi wondered, following the first officer to the door. Sometimes, even after working with someone for a while, she still had the ability to surprise you.

---  
Sorry it's been so long since I've updated (what's it been...a month?), but life has thrown a couple of lemons my way and, with the juicer on the fritz, I haven't had a chance to make lemonade yet. But, in the meantime, I've hashed out an outline for the rest of this story and -- wait for it -- we're looking at about twenty more chapters, give or take. Crazy huh? I hope you all plan on sticking with me to the end because I think it's going to be quite the ride. 

Oh, look, there's still Chapter Twelve to read. How exciting. 


	12. Accentuate the negative

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


  
  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the wonder beta   
  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Twelve - Accentuate the negative**

Being chief engineer of Earth's first warp five vessel was an honor Trip Tucker wouldn't give up for the world.

However, being department head of the largest work crew on _Enterprise _was a headache he'd willingly trade to anyone who wanted it. 

Looking over the Engineering work schedule, Trip sighed in frustration as he continued to juggle individual crewmen and shifts. In most any other part of the ship, scheduling was a simple task. Save for the Bridge and Security, most departments were on a nine-to-five schedule. However, with so much riding on the warp core, it was necessary to rotate the schedules so that no crewman could become "burned out" by routine.

As such, Trip was stuck with a scheduling nightmare on a monthly basis. 

Leaning against the wall in a relatively quiet corner of Engineering, schedule in hand, he looked up suddenly at a small tingle in the back of his mind. Seconds later, the Engineering doors parted to admit Hoshi and T'Pol.

The two women seemed deep in conversation and showed no notice of his approach. It was only when he was a few feet behind T'Pol as she stood at the communications array that the first officer turned to regard him. 

"What the hell are you doing down here?"

Cool as ever -- as far as he could tell, at least -- T'Pol answered, "I am assisting Ensign Sato in an effort to maintain our communications with Starfleet."

"You're supposed to be in your quarters," Trip reminded her. 

"I already told you I do not need to rest, Commander. Doctor Phlox has cleared me for duty."

"Light duty," Trip corrected, glaring briefly at Hoshi for bringing T'Pol work to do. "You shouldn't be working in your condition."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, Commander. Need I remind you that you chose to continue working during your preg --"

"That was different and you know it," he bit out, not wanting the few crewmembers who didn't know about his own maternal experience to hear her. He lowered his voice, "I wasn't nearly as far along as you are. _And_ I hadn't almost miscarried."

Sensing that this conversation really shouldn't include her, Hoshi backed away and said, "I'm going to start re-calibrating the communications array." 

Trip watched the linguist leave and noticed that the rest of his crew had stopped their work and were attempting -- without much success -- to look busy while they listened to the exchange. Not wanting to air all his personal affairs to the whole of Engineering, Trip placed his hand at T'Pol's elbow and lead her toward his office. 

- - -

After a very loud ten minutes -- though the commander's voice was the only one heard through the closed doors -- the two senior officers emerged from the chief engineer's office. 

Commander Tucker, Ana Hess noted, looked less-than-pleased with whatever agreement the two had finally reached. The sub-commander, not surprisingly, gave very little away in her facial expression as she joined Sato at the communications array.

Though she didn't necessarily like to see her commanding officer upset, Ana had to admit it was nice to see the Chief behave in a manner similar to his pre-Xindi self. Ana understood the pain of losing a loved one -- her own sister had died in a training accident two years ago -- but Commander Tucker's grief had transformed him from an easy-going, if somewhat irritable, genius to a shell of automated responses. 

His relationship with Sub-Commander T'Pol, though Ana still didn't completely understand it, seemed to be a catalyst for brining life back to him. And, though Ana had no qualms about stepping into his shoes every once in a while to run Engineering, she was glad to have the Chief back. 

Even if, at the moment, his attention was divided between the repair list she was showing him and the communications console where Sub-Commander T'Pol had worked with Ensign Sato. 

"Commander?" Ana asked, trying to draw his focus back to the PADD she was currently holding out to him. 

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" he bellowed and it took Ana a moment to realize that his ire was directed at T'Pol and not her. The lieutenant watched as Tucker stalked toward the service ladder -- which the sub-commander was about to climb. 

Ensign Sato, she noted, made a quick back step to get out of the commander's path. 

_Oh boy, _Ana thought. _This isn't going to be good at all_.

- - -

"What did I just say?" Trip yelled. "Didn't I just tell you no crawling and climbing in your condition?"

"I could quote your exact words, Commander, but I believe the whole of Engineering has heard enough profanity for today." T'Pol replied, her even tones a contrast to his escalating volume.

"Cute. Real cute." Trip crossed his arms over his chest. "What exactly do you need on the upper level?"

"I am attempting to interface the communications array with main sensors for a stronger signal base. The sensor array is more easily accessed from the upper level."

"And you couldn't have taken the lift? Or Hoshi couldn't have done it for you?"

"I suppose..."

"T'Pol, I'm serious. I don't want you doing anything that's going to endanger you or the twins."

"I do not believe I have placed the twins in any danger with my activities." She placed her foot on the lowest rung of the ladder. "Now, if you will excuse me."

Trip place his hand on her arm. "Don't even think about it."

"Please unhand me, Commander."

"No, Sub-Commander, I don't think I will. I forbid you to climb this ladder -- or any ladder -- or place yourself in any strenuous situation for the next six months." 

"You are being wholly irrational."

"Yeah, well, you worked me up pretty badly. I'm not feeling wholly rational."

T'Pol tilted her head slightly. "Do you realize your accent becomes more pronounced when you are agitated?"

"Considering how much you agitate me, I'm not surprised you've noticed." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, T'Pol, just promise me you'll be careful."

"Commander --"

"Tactical alert. Senior officers to the bridge."

- - -

Rushing to their tactical stations, Hess and Martinez spared a few minutes. "What the hell was that about?"

"I don't know. I think it would have been hilarious if it hadn't been so scary."

"Scary?" Hess asked.

"Yeah," Martinez replied. "The sub-commander and Tucker fighting like that...it reminded me of my parents."

- - -

Captain Archer turned as T'Pol and Hoshi stepped onto the Bridge. 

"I thought you were on light duty?" he asked T'Pol. 

Rather than answer, T'Pol took her seat at the science console and proceeded to run a scan of the surrounding space. In an effort to draw the captain's attention from the already frustrated Vulcan -- though T'Pol would never admit it and Hoshi would never point it out, but the Vulcan woman was probably only one more stubborn Human male away from snapping a certain engineer's neck -- Hoshi moved to her own station. "What's going on?"

"An unidentified ship has dropped out of warp. One life sign." Malcolm reported from Tactical. "And its brought a gaggle of Xindi ships with it."

"The Xindi vessels do not seem to have detected _Enterprise _. Electromagnetic interference from the planet seems to be masking our presence," T'Pol reported. 

"Let's keep it that way," Archer said, focusing his attention back to the viewscreen. 

"Sir," reported Malcolm, "the unidentified ship is in trouble. Life support is failing and structural integrity is almost nil." 

"Can we get a transporter lock?" the captain asked, moving toward the tactical console as though his presence would make the procedure possible. 

"Not from here, sir. We'll need to move from our position," Malcolm informed him, refusing to allow Archer's hovering to distract him from his duty. 

Archer looked back at the viewscreen, watching as the pursuing Xindi vessels fired a volley of plasma bursts at the much smaller and, apparently, outgunned ship. "Travis, hold our position," he finally commanded as an idea came to him. Moving to the center seat, he hit the comm button. "Bridge to Engineering." 

"Engineering," came the pleasant tone of Commander Tucker's voice. 

"Trip, I need you to get a transporter lock on the pilot of the unidentified ship. When he moves into range, pull him out of there." 

"Aye-aye, Cap'n. I'll be in the Transporter Room." 

Once the connection was closed, Malcolm asked, "Would it be wise to have a security detail waiting? We don't know who -- or what -- we're bringing aboard." 

Archer nodded and reached again for the communicator on the center seat. "Major Hayes, have a team of MACOs in the Transporter Room to receive our new friend." 

When Hayes acknowledged, Archer cut the connection and, to himself or the Bridge, "Let's hope that an enemy of the Xindi is a friend of ours." 

- - -

Down in the Transporter Room, Trip was busy securing the lock on their soon-to-be-guest when Major Hayes and two of his MACOs arrived. "Lieutenant Reed thought you might need us." 

"Good timing," Trip said, initiating the transport sequence. "We're bringing our guest -- for better or worse -- aboard now." 

The MACOs watched intently as the transporter affect began, their weapons trained on the shimmer of space as it began to take shape and dissipating to reveal the pilot. 

"You!" Trip yelled, the alarm in his voice causing the MACOs to release the safety on their sidearms and move menacingly forward. 

The woman on the platform ignored the armed Humans and focused a warm smile on the engineer. "Hello, Commander Tucker." 

Trip stared hard at the woman, an appropriate insult or threat forming on his lips just as Archer's voice came over the comm, "Trip? Did you get him?" 

"It's not a him, Cap'n. It's Rajiin." 


	13. Fear leads to

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_  


  
  
**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub, the best beta this side of the Alpha Quadrant  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  


**Chapter Thirteen - Fear leads to...**

Curiosity overrode logic as T'Pol -- despite the captain's protest -- followed Archer and Reed into the Transporter Room. 

Though she did not doubt the commander's identification of their unexpected visitor, she found it difficult to believe that Rajiin, the alien slave Archer "rescued" from a trade planet six months ago, would willingly return to _Enterprise_ after assaulting several crewmembers to gather information for the Reptilian Xindi. 

The fact that T'Pol had been one of those crewmembers, fueled her need to confront the woman once more. Rajiin had left her unconscious as a result of the method she used to gain entry into the science officer's mind. The sight of Rajiin standing serenely on the transporter platform, however, forced T'Pol to stop short as she remembered the way the woman had smiled moments before forcing her way into first officer's mind. The very sight of Rajiin made T'Pol feel as vulnerable and open as she had months ago in her quarters.

There was little T'Pol could do to stop the icy tendrils of fear that snaked up her spine, her thoughts moving quickly from her own safety to that of her children. If Rajiin was able to overpower her again -- T'Pol would be helpless to protect her son and daughter. 

Taking an involuntary step back, T'Pol was surprised to find that Trip had moved from his place behind the control console to stand beside her. Though his focus was on their unexpected guest, T'Pol was aware of _his_ awareness of her. Since discovering their connection through the paternal bond, both she and the engineer had worked very hard to keep their thoughts to themselves. 

This was the first instance in quite some time that T'Pol could sense what Trip was feeling. At the moment, he was feeling a lot of anger -- all of it directed at Rajiin -- and some more, something... 

"Are you not happy to see me, Jonathon?" 

Both Trip and T'Pol were surprised by the familiar way Rajiin addressed the captain, especially considering the compliment of Starfleet and MACO officers surrounding her. 

"Why would I be happy to see you?" Archer practically growled, taking a step toward the platform and causing Hayes to move with him in an effort to protect _Enterprise_'s commanding officer. "The last time I saw you, you betrayed my ship and attacked my crew."

The smile Rajiin had worn since materializing minutes before faltered some. "I told you I had no choice," she explained, taking her own step forward and ignoring the phase rifles trained on her every movement. "I thought you would have understood that now."

"I don't understand it anymore now than I did then," the captain answered. His eyes narrowed. "Lucky for me, I have my own choices to make." He turned to Hayes and Lieutenant Reed. "Throw her in the Brig."

- - -

"Stop telling me that you're fine because I'm not going to believe you."

From her position on the meditation mat, T'Pol regarded the _Enterprise_ chief engineer as he lounged in a chair of negligible spinal support he had procured from his cabin. The stubborn Human had refused to leave her side since Rajiin was taken to the Brig and didn't seem to think being "right next door" was close enough for keeping a watchful eye over her. 

Though she had not intention of placing herself in the same vulnerable position with Rajiin as she had last time, T'Pol appreciated his efforts in regard to her well-being. 

That appreciation, however, only went so far. 

"If you would leave me alone long enough to meditate, I can assure you that I will be fine, Commander." In addition to calming her thoughts after the encounter with Rajiin, T'Pol wanted to focus her attention on the apparent strengthening of the connection between herself and the commander. At first, she had thought it a result of her shock at seeing her attacker again, but even as the two senior officers had walked back to their quarters the bond had lingered. 

Trip shifted in his seat, adjusting the pillow he had taken from T'Pol's bunk in an effort to make himself more comfortable. "I'm not leaving you alone for one minute while that woman's on board. I don't trust her, even if she _is_ in the Brig with two MACOs watching over her."

"That is understandable," T'Pol agreed, suppressing a shudder as, again, the memory of Rajiin's assault came unbidden to her mind. It had been the second time T'Pol had been violated, had the barriers of her mind stripped away to expose her core. The mental defenses taught to every young Vulcan had been ripped away like tissue paper against the other woman's persistent probe. T'Pol had been helpless to stop her, just as she'd been helpless to stop --

No, she would not think of Tolaris. There was no need to relive those memories any more than it was necessary to recall the weakness Rajiin had forced her to face. 

"T'Pol?"

She opened her eyes -- when had she closed them? -- to see a concerned Trip kneeling before her. 

"For someone who's supposed to be relaxing, you don't look it," he observed, studying her face. "Not to mention your broadcasting a lot of negativity."

T'Pol took a deep breath, focusing her gaze on Trip's face, locking her eyes with his. "You have noticed as well? The connection?"

"Yeah," he agreed, "The minute you stepped into the Transporter Room, I..." he shook his head, anger welling within him again, "I felt your fear, T'Pol. You've never been afraid of anything and you shouldn't be afraid of her. I won't let her get near you again -- you or our children."

After a moment, T'Pol said softly, "You are mistaken, Commander."

His anger found a new, inward direction, and she sensed the guilt he'd carried since that night he found her unconscious in her quarters. "I know I wasn't there for you before, but I swear I will be this time."

"I was not doubting you. I was merely informing you that I have been afraid before."

Trip looked incredulous. "Of what? You're the most fearless woman I know."

It was her turn to look incredulous. "I have my share of fears, Commander."

"Like what?"

"You."

"Me? How can you be afraid of me? If you had half a mind to, you could break me in half with that superior Vulcan strength you're always bragging about."

"I do not brag."

"Fine, you don't brag. But you still have no reason to be afraid of me."

"I am not afraid _of you_, Commander, but a lot has happened these past months that have been beyond anything I have ever encountered. The pregnancy. The bond. Your feelings for me."

"You're afraid because I love you?"

"I do not understand your love, Commander. I do not know why you feel this way nor do I know if," she broke off, closing her eyes and fighting for control as it slowly slipped away again. "I do not know if I can return your feelings."

"I told you I don't expect you to feel the same way, T'Pol," Trip reminded, joining her on the mat, his knees bumping hers as he took a similar meditative position. "I can't say that I don't want to be loved by you, or at least the Vulcan equivalent, but for now I'm content to just bask in the glow of your company at every opportunity."

T'Pol studied him for a moment. "Considering the amount of time we are in other's presence, Commander, I believe you are do a lot of basking."

"And I enjoy every minute of it, T'Pol." He grinned. "We could have just spent an hour discussing who-knows-what over lunch and I'll be down in Engineering purging the intake manifolds and think, 'This'd be more fun if T'Pol were here.'"

"My presence would make such a mundane task more enjoyable for you?" she asked, openly curious at the illogical correlation.

"You bet it would."

"Why?"

"'Why' what?"

"Why do you believe yourself to be in love with me?"

Trip stared blankly for a moment, not sure what to say. He'd never been asked to explain _why_ he loved someone before. Granted, his previous relationships hadn't been stellar examples of deep-felt emotional meaning, but his previous girlfriends had simply taken "I love you" at face value. 

But loving T'Pol, he didn't know if he _could_ explain it. Not just because she was Vulcan and wasn't familiar with the concept, but because what he felt was so big he didn't know if he fully understood it. 

"It's hard to put into words," he finally confessed. 

T'Pol was quiet for several moments, the look on her face as intent as the thoughts in her head.

"Perhaps you don't need to put your feelings into words."

He tilted his head, confusion on his face. 

"Have you heard of a mind-meld?"

"The Vulcans without logic were all about it, right? Melding?"

At the mention of the V'tosh ka'tur, T'Pol's shoulders stiffened. Before Trip could ask what was wrong, she continued, "That is correct. Traditionally, a meld is performed only among family, trained Healers and bond mates. It is, essentially, a sharing of one's mind with another's. A sharing of thoughts. If you would be so willing, I would attempt to meld with you."

His brow furrowed. "If this is only for couples and families, I'm not sure I follow." 

"When the V'tosh ka'tur were aboard, Tolaris introduced me to the concept of bonding outside the normal parameters. Though I did not appreciate his attempts, I believe the bond we already share would allow us to successfully meld."

"That wasn't exactly what I was asking, T'Pol. Why would you want to meld with me?"

"I do not know if I can successfully describe it anymore than you can describe your feelings for me. I just know that it is something I desire to attempt."

"Can I think about it?" At her expression, he rushed to assure her, "This isn't a rejection, T'Pol. It's just...I've never shared my mind with anyone. Well, excluding the bond with you and the kids. I just need to think about it, first."

T'Pol nodded and stood. "Very well. Perhaps you should return to your quarters --"

"Hold on a minute," Trip interrupted. "I didn't say I was going to need much time to think about it."

He reached for her hand and, gently, pulled her back down to a sitting position.

"This isn't going to hurt, right?"

She thought a moment. "I do not think so."

"Well alright, then." He took a deep breath, using the first phase of proper Vulcan meditation to calm his jumbled nerves. "Meld me." 

- - -

Elsewhere, the captain of the _Enterprise_ was preparing himself for an encounter of his own. 

By his own admission, Jonathon Archer wasn't a very forgiving man. His problem, as he'd been told by his mother once, was that he was quick to trust. If that trust was betrayed, he was quick to anger. 

For reasons he still couldn't be sure of, he'd trusted Rajiin. He'd given her free reign of his ship. He'd shared stories with her he hadn't shared with some of his closest friends. He'd felt a connection to the woman; had thought that connection had been reciprocated. 

The guilt he felt for allowing her the opportunity to take advantage of his ship -- for placing T'Pol in Sickbay...how he could have been so easily taken in by her... 

And he _had_ been taken in by Rajiin. After her "rescue," she'd treated Archer like a hero and he ate it up. It was nice to have someone finally appreciate his efforts, to see the strain this mission put on him. Rajiin had played him from the very beginning, stoking his ego, taking advantage of his vanity.

He had been stupid.

Gaining admittance into the Brig, Archer saw her seated in the Brig, serene despite her surroundings. She was as beautiful as he she'd been the first time he saw her in Zjod's showcase -- and he cursed himself for noticing. 

At his entrance into her cell, Rajiin stood and smiled. "I must admit, Jonathon, this isn't the welcome I had expected."

His tone cold, Archer crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall opposite Rajiin. "What kind of welcome _did_ you expect? That I would have shot you on site rather than throw you in the Brig?"

Confusion passed briefly across Rajiin's features. "I do not understand --"

"What's not to understand? I rescued -- or at least, thought I was rescuing -- you, only to have you assault my crew and leave my ship open for attack. I'm still tempted to shoot you, or, at the very least, wring your neck."

Unsure of how seriously to take his threat, Rajiin backed away and resumed her seat on the cell bunk. "I explained that I had no choice then, Jonathon. I thought that by helping you I would have proved that --"

"What do you mean 'helping' us? T'Pol was in Sickbay for two days because of what you did to her. Not to mention the security officers your Xindi friends killed or the bioweapon you helped them design."

"But the Ceidé gave you the cure to the bioweapon," Rajiin protested, her eyes widening at the violent nature of Archer's outburst.

"The Ceidé?" It was Archer's turn to look confused.

"The scientists who gave you the antidote to the Xindi bioweapon. Didn't they tell you I sent them?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. We haven't encountered anyone calling themselves 'Ceid' and we certainly haven't encountered anyone with a cure for the bioweapon."

"But they told me they provided the antidote. I told them to find your ship and help --"

"I don't know what you're playing at, Rajiin," Archer said, cutting off her explanation and taking a step forward. "But I can tell you it's not going to work this time."

"I'm not playing any game, Jonathon." She took a deep breath, looking up at the captain. "After I left your ship and completed my mission for the Xindi, I wanted to help you and your crew. I contacted the Ceidé. They are a race of healers and scientists. I knew that if anyone could find a defense against the bioweapon it would be them. Five months ago, they contacted me and said they'd provided a cure to you."

The lost look in her eyes and the near-plea in her voice forced a small tug in the pit of the Archer's stomach. For all the havoc this woman had wreaked on his ship, he couldn't deny the feelings he still harbored for her; feelings he hadn't felt for anyone in a long time. Perhaps she truly hadn't had a choice. He'd done things in the past several months he wasn't proud. Maybe Rajiin deserved a second chance --

No. He couldn't allow compassion blind him and leave his ship vulnerable. Not again.

No matter his feelings for her, Archer couldn't believe her story to be anything but a lie. No one had contacted them in the seven months since Rajiin first encountered _Enterprise_. They hadn't encountered any species...

"Did you say five months ago?"

Rajiin nodded slowly, curious how the anger she'd sensed earlier from the Human had been so quickly been replaced with disbelief. "Yes," she answered.

The captain ran a hand over his face, not able to believe where his own thoughts were taking him. "These Ceidé? They wouldn't happen to be advanced geneticists, would they?"

"I suppose that is one of their fields. Their expertise in the medical sciences is far more advanced than anyone's in this region of space. That is why I provided them with a sample of the bioweapon and asked for their help. They are a neutral species and take no part in the various conflicts that surround them." Rajiin studied him. "If they never contacted you, why are you so curious?"

"Five months ago, Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol went missing for three days. When they returned, T'Pol was pregnant with half-Human hybrids."

"But that's --" Rajiin's eyes widened. "I noticed T'Pol's condition, but I never thought...Why would they do that?"

"How should I know? You're the one who told them to make contact with us."

"I had asked them to help you, not kidnap your crew and perform strange experiments. You have to believe that was not my intention." 

"I don't really have to believe anything you tell me, Rajiin. It's pretty safe to say everything you've ever told me was a lie. Why should I trust you now?"

"You shouldn't trust me. You've no reason to. But I swear the Ceidé were supposed to approach you as allies, not kidnap Commander Tucker or Sub-Commander T'Pol. I am not certain how this happened."

"Let's start at the beginning. Tell me everything you know." 


	14. The lights are on, no one’s home

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub: the alpha of all betas.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Fourteen - The lights are on, no one's home**

Malcolm Reed was not a happy security officer.

At the captain's request, he had seen to Rajiin's comfort in the four-star accommodations he liked to call the Brig.

Also, at Archer's request, Malcolm had made certain to double the usual compliment of guards outside her cell with the hope that her psychic parlor tricks couldn't work en masse.

Going one step further, Malcolm established a visual feed to his security station on the Bridge so that he could keep an eye on the alien woman himself while on duty.

After putting all these safety measures in place, imagine Malcolm's surprise upon looking at the Brig footage to find Rajiin having a cozy chat with Captain Archer while they both sipped from those large mugs T'Pol favored for tea.

_Why do I even both with protocols?_ Malcolm asked himself. He stared at the station monitor, wondering what exactly the captain was thinking. Malcolm had thought it foolish to allow Rajiin to wander the ship as she pleased the first time she was aboard. He'd refrained from shouting "I told you so" to his commanding officer when the woman revealed herself as a spy for the Xindi and hoped the captain had learned a lesson about caution.

But now, Archer was repeating his earlier mistake and allowing himself to be placed once again under the woman's spell. Though he couldn't determine what, exactly, the two were discussing, Archer and Rajiin seemed awfully chummy considering that she was supposed to be a prisoner.

_Unfortunate that I didn't think to patch audio up here._

As he moved back to the command seat, ignoring the questioning look Hoshi shot at him, Malcolm weighed his options. He didn't feel it his place to question a superior's actions, but the head of security couldn't very well sit by while Rajiin used her wiles to once again place the ship in danger.

It wouldn't be unusual for him to stroll into the Brig just to see how things were going, but he couldn't very well leave in the middle of his Bridge shift to do so. Especially when he was essentially going to spy on the captain.

Pressing the comm button on the command chair, he opened a channel to Engineering, "Bridge to Commander Tucker."

"Engineering," answered a decidedly female voice.

"Where's Commander Tucker?"

"The commander isn't on duty until 1700, sir."

Malcolm closed the channel, thanking the engineer -- he assumed it had been Hess but he couldn't be sure -- and frowning at the viewscreen.

"Commander Tucker is in T'Pol's quarters."

"What?" Malcolm asked, drawing his eyes toward the communications station.

Hoshi had the decency to look a bit sheepish as she repeated, "Commander Tucker is in T'Pol's quarters, sir. I took the liberty of finding him for you."

Malcolm smiled at Hoshi's "liberty" and opened a channel to the sub-commander's cabin.

No response.

He tried again.

Still no answer.

One last time.

By now, every set of ears on the Bridge was listening intently for someone to respond to the comm call.

"Are you sure they're in T'Pol's quarters?"

"Yes, sir," Hoshi said, checking her screen again. "All four of them."

It took Malcolm a moment to realize Hoshi meant Trip, T'Pol and the twins. On the verge of a smile, he remembered the reason he'd attempted to reach Trip to begin with --

What if Rajiin had gotten to them?

He walked back to the security station and sighed with relief at the sight of the captain and Rajiin still chatting it up like old friends.

_But what if she snuck out after putting the captain in another of those weird mind trances? She could have knocked out Trip and T'Pol and went back to her cell before anyone noticed her absence._

His mind running at the threat of Rajiin systematically taking out the entire crew one by one -- with the captain none-the-wiser -- sent a trickle of cold sweat running down Malcolm's back.

"Hoshi, you have the Bridge," he said abruptly, moving to the turbolift even before he'd finished the command.

"What's going on?" Travis asked, swiveling his chair in time to see Malcolm step into the 'lift.

Without answer, the turbolift doors closed over the grim set of the lieutenant's face.

- - -

Even as he walked quickly along the corridor, Malcolm knew his first priority should have been to secure the Brig and be sure Rajiin was being a proper prisoner.

However, with the fate of his friends and unborn godchildren at stake, Malcolm found himself standing outside T'Pol's quarters and entering a security override to open the cabin door.

Rushing in, Malcolm's eyes immediately went to the huddled forms of Trip and T'Pol in the center of the cabin.

Malcolm knelt next to Trip and checked for a pulse. "Thank God," he whispered, moving to check T'Pol -- and grateful he'd asked Phlox how to do so if he ever found himself with an unconscious Vulcan again.

Even as his hand found the pulse point -- two inches below her ribcage and four inches from her spine -- T'Pol's eyes fluttered open.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?" Trip asked, pushing himself into a sitting position. He narrowed his eyes at the placement of Malcolm's hand on T'Pol.

"What do you mean 'what am I doing'? What are you doing?" Malcolm quickly pulled his hand away from, not liking the way Trip was scowling at him. "I thought Rajiin had gotten to you."

"Rajiin has escaped?" T'Pol asked, the pitch of her voice throwing Malcolm off even more than the sight that had first greeted him upon entering the cabin.

"Rajiin's in her cell," Malcolm assured. "At least, I think she is."

At Trip's questioning look, Malcolm explained what he'd seen on the Brig monitor.

"Then why aren't you down in the Brig?" Trip asked, giving a hand to T'Pol as she stood.

Malcolm watched the way T'Pol allowed her hand to linger in Trip's a moment after he'd steadied her. "I came here because I thought you might be injured. We were worried when you didn't answer the comm hails."

"'We'?" Trip shared a look with T'Pol.

"The entire Bridge crew," Malcolm explained, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Trip. "Just what were the two of you up to?"

"First off, it's none of your business." Trip glared back, "And second, shouldn't we go check to make sure the Cap'n's alright?"

- - -

The three officers stood in silence as the turbolift carried them toward the Brig, Trip's gaze intent on T'Pol as she stared ahead.

_Don't be embarrassed, T'Pol._

_I am not embarrassed._

_It's not like Malcolm has any idea what we were doing._

_It is his likely assumption that troubles me._

_Growing up in a naval family, Mal's likely to have a dirty mind._

Malcolm stood unaware of the conversation going on in the 'lift. How could he know that Trip and T'Pol, as an aftereffect of the meld they'd shared earlier, had strengthened their bond to point of being able to read the other's thoughts?

The mind meld had been unlike anything Trip had expected. When T'Pol had described it as a "sharing of minds," she hadn't been kidding -- not that he expected that she'd joke about a sacred Vulcan rite. It was hard to believe, even with the lingering connection, he'd actually been a part of T'Pol; their minds as one during the the meld.

When they'd parted, Trip had been reluctant to return to himself and lose the touch of T'Pol's thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in the beautiful layers of her mind for as long as he could. She may not be able to tell him in words how she felt -- to be able to say she loved him -- but her mind told him everything he needed to know.

He completed her. Just as she completed him.

Vulcans may not call that love, but he sure as heck did.

Intent on savoring the memory of the meld, of being so close to the woman he loved, it had taken Trip a minute to realize that though T'Pol's hands were no longer touching the psi-points of his face, her mind was still touching his.

"This is unexpected," T'Pol had said. Actually, she'd thought it, but Trip had heard it in his mind as clearly as if the words had been aloud.

_Unexpected, but nice,_ he'd thought back. _And exhausting_.

Neither Human or Vulcan had realized how draining the experience would be, both physically and mentally. Without speaking -- with no need to -- they laid down together on the mat, Trip's arms wrapped around T'Pol, and both fell asleep instantly.

Which was how Malcolm found them -- minutes? hours? -- later. The look on the security officer's face clearly conveyed what he thought the two of them had been up to. For T'Pol's honor, Trip figured he should try to set his friend straight, but knew it wasn't going to be any easier to explain than if they _had_ been doing what Malcolm probably thought they'd been doing.

_You are probably correct, Commander._

_'Trip,' remember? You called me Trip earlier. _

_We were not on duty, then,_ T'Pol reminded, looking over at him briefly before turning her eyes forward once again.

_Technically we're _not _on duty now. We're just going for a walk with Malcolm._

T'Pol didn't bother to answer, but Trip could feel her amused frustration -- a combination of emotions only his "unfeeling" Vulcan could pull off.

When the turbolift finally stopped, Malcolm led them toward the Brig. The absence of the Starfleet and MACO personnel that should have been posted outside Rajiin's raised immediate warning flags and Malcolm produced a phase pistol from -- as far as Trip could determine -- thin air.

_I wonder if _that's_ the one he sleeps with?_

_Lieutenant Reed sleeps with his armaments?_

Trip locked eyes with T'Pol, remembering that he needed to be more careful with his random thoughts until the connection faded.

T'Pol broke eye contact and focused her attention on the sight that awaited them in the first Brig cell. Trip followed her gaze and couldn't believe his own eyes.

Though Malcolm told them what he'd seen on the monitor at his station, neither Trip or T'Pol was quite prepared to see the captain sitting in the Brig with a prisoner, sipping tea, and looking more relaxed than anyone had seen him since the start of the mission.

Before anyone could announce their presence, Rajiin placed her mug aside and stood. "Jonathon, we have company."

Craning his neck, Archer nodded in acknowledgment. "Hello, Trip. Malcolm. T'Pol. Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. Rajiin and I have been catching up on the past seven months."

Had the three officers been less professional, their collective jaws would have dropped to the floor at his invitation.

"Perhaps you should step outside of the cell, Captain," T'Pol suggested, her eyes focused on the captain even as she attempted with her own limited telepathic ability to sense if Rajiin were projecting some sort of hold over the captain.

"That isn't necessary, T'Pol. Rajiin has been enlightening me with the most fascinating story and I think you'll all be interested to hear it.

"It turns out," Archer continued, "That Rajiin here felt guilty for betraying us to the Reptilians, so she thought she'd help out by having this group of scientists find a cure for the bio-weapon."

With every day the _Enterprise_ came closer to finding the Xindi, the threat of the bio-weapon the Reptilians were developing posed a more immediate threat. Having protective measures against such an attack would be a great benefit to the mission. "You have an antidote?" T'Pol asked, turning her focus to Rajiin.

The captain cleared his throat. "Actually, T'Pol, you have it." 


	15. Have you ever seen Scanners?

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub: the alpha of all betas.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Fifteen - Have you ever seen "Scanners"?**

With interest, Rajiin watched the reaction of the _Enterprise_ officers as Jonathon explained the timing of her request to the Ceidé. How could she have known that her attempt to help the crew of the Human vessel would have yielded such a bizarre twist? Rajiin's only desire had been to atone for her mistake in assisting the Reptilians, but what new betrayal had she set upon the Humans?

"And you think because she asked these Cedar scientists to lend us a hand, they decided to kidnap me and T'Pol?" Commander Tucker glared at Rajiin. "You're the reason we lost three days?"

"It seems rather preposterous, sir," Lieutenant Reed added, his accent -- so different from the rest of the Humans she'd met -- clipping his sentences into accusation. "If the Seedy wanted to assist us, why not simply contact _Enterprise_ instead of laying in wait for the survey team?"

"It's Ceidé," Rajiin offered, earning a scowl from both Reed and Tucker. "And I don't know why they acted the way they did."

"If you don't know _why_, then how can you be sure the twins' creation are their doing? What makes you think they carry the cure to the bio-weapon?" Reed looked pointedly at Archer. "Has she provided any proof?"

"When I contacted the Ceidé," Rajiin explained, "I provided them the same biological information I had the Xindi. That included scans of Vulcan and Human biology and a sample of the original batch of the bio-weapon."

"That would explain how they knew enough about Trip and T'Pol's genetics to create the hybrids," Archer offered.

Tucker, moving for the first time from his protective stance near T'Pol, stepped toward Rajiin. "Why did you suddenly want to help us after you'd just betrayed us?"

Rajiin stood, meeting the Human's gaze. "After spending time on your ship, with your crew, I knew you couldn't be capable of what the Xindi had been lead to believe. "

"Yet you still provided them with the information necessary to create a weapon to destroy us." Malcolm snorted. "If you were so convinced that we weren't going to harm the Xindi, why not simply refuse to turn over the information?"

Rajiin shuddered, remembering one of her earlier dealings with the Reptilians. She _had_ been a slave once and sold to the Xindi for use of her bio-scanning skill. When she had refused to use her gift for their purposes --

The shudder intensified and she felt Jonathon lay a hand on her shoulder. As horrible as her experiences with the Xindi had been, her knowledge of their "methods" had been enough to get Jonathon to listen to what she had to say in defense of her actions. She hadn't expected his forgiveness so easily, but he only proved how kind Humans were.

"It is not easy to refuse the Reptilians anything." Rajiin swallowed hard, regaining her composure. "After I was released from my 'contract' with them, I contacted the Ceidé."

"Rajiin believes an examination of the hybrids and analysis of the bio-weapon will provide some of our missing answers," Jonathon supplied. "I've already told Phlox to be ready for us."

- - -

As they waited for Phlox to complete his analysis, Rajiin watched the _Enterprise_ engineer and science officer with great interest. Though Tucker had protested to her presence in Sickbay, Archer had overridden his protest. Rajiin had noticed the way the commander hovered protectively near T'Pol since she first came aboard.

From what she knew of Human psychology -- which was still very little -- they were similar to Xindi primates in their paternal nature. The safety of their children outweighed all consequences. It was understandable that the engineer would feel a connection to the hybrids, even if he didn't remember playing a part in their conception or knew what his involvement had actually been.

What was surprising, however, was the connection -- a true, psychic connection -- to T'Pol. _I didn't realize Humans could form telepathic bonds_, she thought, even as she sensed the mental exchange between the two officers.

Though she could have easily "listened" into the conversation, Rajiin refrained from intruding. Jonathon had been willing to give her a second chance; the rest of his crew was not so quick to forgive her.

Having been betrayed herself on more than one occasion -- by fellow slaves looking for their own chance at freedom -- she could understand their hesitance. What the Humans did not seem to realize now was that she wasn't far removed from their status in the eyes of the Xindi; she was a threat that needed to be extinguished. If she had not been under the protection of the Aquatics, it was likely she would not have left Xindi Prime alive. The Reptilians were not known for treating their allies much better than their enemies.

"I've completed my analysis," the Denobulan doctor announced, causing Rajiin, T'Pol and the three Human males to all look at him expectantly.

Phlox smiled uneasily, as though not entirely sure if he was delivering entirely good news. "It seems that Rajiin was correct about the hybrids' purpose."

"The twins are a cure for the bio-weapon?" Tucker asked, his hand resting over T'Pol's as the two sat on a nearby biobed.

"From initial study, it appears the unique combination of Human and Vulcan genetic material has resulted in a mutated antigen that halts the progression of the bio-weapon. I would like to perform further study, of course, but at this point I can guarantee that the hybrids are immune to the effects of the bio-weapon."

"Can you make an antidote for the rest of us from your findings?" Jonathon asked, his tone tense.

"Without further analysis I cannot say for sure, but it is likely." The doctor laid his eyes on Rajiin. "If our guest would be willing to help me, I believe my analysis may go a little faster."

Though Tucker, Reed and T'Pol bristled at the doctor's request, Jonathon nodded his head and turned to her. "If you're willing to lend the doctor a hand..."

"Of course," Rajiin answered, happy at the chance to prove her commitment to helping the Humans. "When would you like to begin, Doctor?"

_- - -_

Back in T'Pol's quarters, reluctant to leave for his duty shift, Trip paced the length of her cabin.

"Our children are going to save Humanity," he said, trying to convince himself of the recent revelation.

"It would appear so." T'Pol, seated on her bunk, stared unseeing at the unlit meditation candles.

"Kind of trumps anything they'll do in school."

At his absurd comment, T'Pol focused her attention on the man who, only that morning, had allowed her to share his mind.

Trip stopped his pacing and looked back at T'Pol. "Does this make you feel any better or have we just added another level of weird to the mix?"

"We still have a great many questions, Comman -- Trip." T'Pol watched him smile at her correction and noted how much she enjoyed seeing that particular expression on his face. If it weren't for their particular situation, would she have ever admitted that to herself? What effect would discovering the origin of their children have on their developing relationship? "I do not know how to react."

Sensing that T'Pol wasn't just talking about Phlox's support of the captain and Rajiin's theory, Trip took a seat on the floor before her. After studying her features for several moments, he finally asked, "Y'think this means we can trust Rajiin?"

With the straightest face he'd ever seen -- even for a Vulcan -- T'Pol replied, "I believe the Human expression is 'not as far as I can throw her.'"

Trip laughed out loud, remembering how well T'Pol had been able to throw one of the MACOs during a sparring match under Major Hayes' and Malcolm's watchful eyes. "A good ten...fifteen feet, then."

Though T'Pol did not react as loudly in her appreciation of his joke as he had hers, Trip _felt_ her amusement through the bond.

"Did you just laugh?" he asked.

"I do not know what you mean."

"Right now, in my head." He tapped a finger to his temple. "I think I made you laugh."

"Vulcans do not laugh."

"Maybe not on the outside, but you just did. It's kind of nice knowing you appreciate my humor. I'll have to tell a couple more jokes while this connection lasts."

The sense of amusement disappeared quickly from T'Pol's mind. "That may be longer than you think."

"What do you mean?"

T'Pol resumed her vigil of watching the unlit candles, the intensity of her stare enough to light the fragile wicks. "I believe the meld we shared has done more than simply solidify the paternal bond."

"Like what?" Trip asked, pushing himself to his knees and moving forward so that he was eye-level with T'Pol. Whatever she was on the verge of revealing, it seemed difficult for her to divulge. "C'mon, T'Pol. Tell me. We've got nothing to hide from each other, right? My thoughts to your thoughts and all."

T'Pol's eyes locked back onto his, their brown depths darkened by the heavy thoughts she carried. "On Vulcan -- between Vulcans -- this is the bond of mates," she confessed.

"Mates? Y'mean like couples?"

"Not in the sense you are referring. Vulcan relationships have a stronger sense of permanence. Most Vulcans share only one bond in their lifetime. The connection can only be severed by death or ritual performed by a High Priest."

"Sort of a 'til-death-do-we-part-type of thing?"

T'Pol nodded, studying his face as he processed the information. Though she could have easily removed the light barrier he had over his thoughts, she refrained out of respect for the man who had come to mean a great deal to her.

But what did she mean to him.

"This really throws a bit of a wrench in my plans," he finally said, rising to his feet and resuming the pacing of before.

"I am sorry I had not realized the meld would link us like this. I should not have attempted it in the first place." Though his words hurt her, T'Pol hid her reaction using the mental disciplines she'd mastered long before the hormones of a half-Human pregnancy began to wreak havoc on her system. "When this mission is over, we can petition the priests to sever the link."

Trip whirled quickly from mid-pace to face her. "Whoa, T'Pol. I didn't say anything about severing the link."

"But your plans --"

"I was planning to ask you to marry me, but I think you've beaten me to it." 


	16. A kiss is a wish your lips make

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks: **To Stub: the alpha of all betas.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Sixteen - A kiss is a wish your lips make**

After several moments of wide-eyed silence on T'Pol's part, Trip grabbed the desk chair and took a seat. "This wasn't quite the reaction I was hoping for, T'Pol."

"What reaction did you expected, Commander?"

"An enthusiastic 'yes' would have been nice," he said, trying not to cringe at her use of his rank rather than his name. "I didn't expect to render you speechless."

"I am still fully capable of speech," T'Pol protested. "I am simply...unprepared."

"Unprepared? T'Pol, you know my feelings for you. Heck, you've seen my feelings for you, how could you not know that this would be my next step?"

T'Pol was silent for a moment. "I fail to see the logic in your request."

"Huh? What do you mean you don't see the logic?" Trip frowned deeply. "I love you. You're carrying my children. What's not logical about wanting to spend the rest of my life with you?"

"I meant that, according to Vulcan standards, we are already husband and wife. My agreeing to marry you now would be illogically redundant."

"We may be married as far as Vulcans think, but I'm an old-fashioned guy, T'Pol. I want to prove my love to you with all the illogical traditions we Humans have. That includes your saying 'yes' to my proposal and then asking the Cap'n to marry us."

"You want to marry the captain?"

"No. I want him to perform --" Trip voice trailed off, sensing her amusement. "Your sense of humor improves daily, Darlin'."

"If I am going to take a Human as my husband, it would be logical for me to explore his favorite pastime."

"Jokes are nice, but that's not necessarily my favorite pastime." Using his legs, he pulled himself and the chair toward the bunk so that he was only inches from the woman he hoped would soon be his wife. "If we're going to be married -- or are married -- I think there are some things you need to be aware of."

"Such as?"

"Humans like to touch." To prove his point, he reached a hand out and took hers. "Our emotions are messy, but it's nothing compared to the physical ways we can express ourselves."

"Vulcan couples touch."

"If you're talking about the finger-holding you let me do earlier, it's not nearly enough." Taking one finger, he traced random patterns across the back of her hand, enjoying the shiver that passed over T'Pol at his ministrations. "I'm not knocking it, but I've got some other things in mind."

A bit more breathlessly than she would have liked, T'Pol asked, "What do you have in mind?"

Trip looked up from their joined hands and waggled his eyebrows at her. "There's a whole world of touching I want to share with you, T'Pol. But for now, let's start with the basics."

T'Pol looked at him, not entirely sure what he intended.

"You've seen Human's kiss before, right?" he asked.

"Yes, I have." T'Pol tilted her head in thought. "It seemed invasive and wholly unsanitary."

"That's half the fun." Trip leaned forward in his chair, gently tugging T'Pol toward him. "You trust me, right?"

"Against my better judgment. Yes."

"Good," Trip smiled. "Now just follow my lead."

Though he told her what he was doing, saw his intent in her mind's eye, T'Pol was unprepared when his lips touched hers. Nothing T'Pol had experienced in her years among Humans could have readied her for the torrent of sensation his lips provoked.

She had once stood on a San Francisco beach and watched the waves crash into the shore as the tide came in. Part of her had wanted to stand in the water, to feel the waves brush against her legs, to let the ocean consume her.

Unlike the melding, which she had initiated, Trip's emotions were in control -- or out of it -- and it reminded her of that same longing, to allow herself to be swept away by the power of nature's passion.

As Trip deepened the kiss, cupping her face in his hands, T'Pol heard a soft moan and realized -- with much surprise -- it was her own.

Through their bond, which only heightened the experience, she felt Trip's ripple of amusement at her reaction.

When finally, slowly, Trip pulled away, it was to his great satisfaction to see the green flush to T'Pol's cheeks. "I knew you'd like it."

The blush faded much more slowly than T'Pol would have liked as she countered, "I believe it is premature to make that assumption."

Trip gave her an incredulous look, fully aware that T'Pol had enjoyed every minute of his kissing her.

Taking the lead and leaning toward him, T'Pol said softly, "I believe further study is required to make an accurate determination."

"Darlin,'" Trip drawled, "I'm all about furthering the cause of science."

_---_

**Author's Note:** I know, that was know _much_ shorter than anyone would like, but it was sweet and fluffy and will hopefully tide you over until next week. And what happens next week? Well...I could tell you but that would be, um, telling. However, I will say that BIG THINGS are coming and, real-life willing, a lot of those BIG THINGS will be written over the weekend. 


	17. You've got questionsWe've got answers

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** As always, to Stub for being my ever-patient beta.   
And to my chiropractors, without whom this chapter would probably be another week behind (see author's note).  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Seventeen - You've got questions. We've got answers**

Hoshi had a strange sense of deja vu as she and Travis approached the Command Center for another early morning briefing. It wasn't that staff briefings were that unusual, but when the captain announced them with no indication of what was to be covered --

Travis, voicing Hoshi's thoughts, asked, "Remember the last time we had a meeting like this?"

"You don't think someone else is pregnant, do you?" Hoshi shuddered at the thought.

"I hope not. It's going to be weird enough when Commander Tucker and the sub-commander's kids arrive. This ship wasn't really built with a nursery in mind." Travis shrugged. "Besides, what are the chances that we'd have two mysterious pregnancies aboard?"

"Not all pregnancies are that mysterious, Travis." Hoshi gave a soft laugh, then sobered in seriousness. "I wonder if the captain is going to tell us what's going on with Rajiin? I heard from Corporal Hawkins that none of the MACOs have been assigned to the Brig."

"Maybe Lieutenant Reed is handling the security," Travis offered. "He's been more than a little territorial where the MACOs are concerned. I don't think he cares much for Major Hayes' team."

"I noticed," Hoshi agreed, turning the corner as they drew closer to the Command Center . "But it's still peculiar that the MACOs wouldn't share shifts covering the Brig while we've actually got a prisoner. Plus, I heard from Pam Isley that Rajiin was in Sickbay with Phlox."

"What's peculiar about that? Other than the fact that Pam spends more time in Sickbay than Botany recovering from aggressive plants?"

"Rajiin wasn't being _treated _by Phlox, she was _helping _him."

"With what?"

"Pam wasn't paying a lot of attention to details while Phlox was pulling thorns out of her arm." Hoshi stopped outside the Command Center and pressed the door release. "Maybe the captain can shed some light on --"

"Hoshi?" Travis followed her gaze as the doors parted and understood the look of surprise on his fellow ensign's face.

The sight of Rajiin, seated beside Dr. Phlox at the table, was enough to rattle anyone.

Recovering, Hoshi and Travis entered the Command Center and took their respective seats. As the linguist sat, she gave Malcolm a questioning look, inclining her head in Rajiin's direction. From the way the security officer's face tightened, Hoshi guessed he was just as surprised -- and disturbed -- as she was at the Xindi sympathizer's presence.

Looking at the other assembled faces, Hoshi noted that no one seemed overly pleased with Rajiin's presence -- save maybe Phlox who was quietly discussing something with the alien woman.

Commander Tucker, Hoshi noted, was dividing his attention between glaring at Rajiin and playing "keep away" with the PADD T'Pol was attempting to read. The sub-commander, for her part, was ignoring him. Fascinated, Hoshi watched as the halfhearted tug-of-war ended with the PADD between them, the commander's hand resting over T'Pol's.

_That's interesting_, Hoshi thought. She knew from experience the commander was protective of both T'Pol and the twins, but did the open display of affection mean --

Her speculation was interrupted as Captain Archer entered the Command Center and stepped to the bank of monitors at the front of the room.

"We've suffered a lot of setbacks since entering the Expanse eight months ago," the captain began, accessing the Xindi database and allowing what little information the crew had appeared on the various screens. "I know, at times, the potential success of our mission was questionable. I know we've all shared the same fear: that we may not be able to find the Xindi in time to stop their second attack on Earth."

Though she'd never said it out loud, Hoshi had to admit that she'd certainly felt that way on several occasions. Whenever _Enterprise _had seemed on the right track, a new threat would emerge that put them farther away from their goals.

"With the arrival of an unexpected ally," Archer continued, gesturing to Rajiin, "I think our luck's about to change."

_Ally? _Hoshi wondered, her expression of surprise matching the one on Travis' face.

"As you are aware, Rajiin has returned to _Enterprise _. I know you all remember the first time she was aboard, how she had been gathering information to help the Xindi against us. Now, however, Rajiin is here to help us. She has been in Sickbay with Phlox, working to create an antidote against the bio-weapon the Xindi have developed."

Based on the lack of response from T'Pol, Malcolm and Commander Tucker, Hoshi figured the three already knew this information. _Nice to know at least someone knew what was going on. _

Archer pulled up a star chart, indicating he wasn't quite finished. "A defense against the bio-weapon isn't the only thing Rajiin has brought us."

T'Pol, Malcolm and Commander Tucker straightened at that. Hoshi figured the three _did not _already know this information. _Nice to know I'm not the only one in the dark. _

"Rajiin has provided the coordinates of Xindi Prime -- the new Xindi homeworld." As the captain spoke, two dots appeared on the starchart. "Once Phlox and Rajiin have finished with the antidote to the bio-weapon, we're going to pay them a visit."

Though Hoshi, as a student of language, didn't care much for clichés, there was no better description for the silence the followed the captain's announcement: it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

Technically, the pulse of the warp core made it nearly impossible to catch such an insignificant sound, but even that steady background noise seemed to fade in reverence to this paramount news.

Hoshi stared at the star chart, at the red dot that marked Xindi Prime.

_The Xindi homeworld. _

For eight months _Enterprise _had searched for a lead on the Xindi, to find the ones responsible for killing seven million people on Earth. Could this fortunate turn of events be true?

Sharing Hoshi's doubt, Commander Tucker eyed Rajiin with suspicion. "Why didn't you tell us this yesterday?"

"Rajiin did tell me yesterday," Archer answered, drawing the engineer's ire. "I thought you and T'Pol would want to know about the hybrids first."

"What about the hybrids?" Travis asked.

"Rajiin is under the impression," Malcolm explained, "that a race called the Ceidé created the hybrids as a cure to the bio-weapon."

"What?" Though Hoshi knew it to be less-than-professional behavior of a senior officer, she couldn't help but shout her question.

"According to Rajiin," Phlox said, "she contacted the Ceidé shortly after completing her mission for the Xindi -- at great personal risk to herself, I might add. The Ceidé were supposed to contact us but, for reasons unknown, left us a clue to the antidote in the form of Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol's children."

Hoshi found this new information difficult to grasp. "How can the twins be a cure to a Xindi-created bio-weapon? Why not just give us a vial? Why'd did they --"

"We don't know why the Ceidé acted as they did," Archer interrupted, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "But we're going to find out."

"How are we gonna do that?" Tucker asked, the hand that had been laying playfully over T'Pol's now gripping hers tightly. "Or is this something else you and Rajiin are holding back from us?"

The captain's brow furrowed at the engineer's accusation, but he let it slide as he turned back to the starchart and indicated the second dot on the screen. "This is the Ceidé space station where Rajiin made her contact. It's a two-week detour from our present position to Xindi Prime. That gives Rajiin and Phlox time to create the antidote and before we make contact with the Xindi."

---  
**Author's Note:** I'm sure you're all disappointed that this chapter took longer than promised...but I threw out my back and haven't been able to sit at the computer for the past week. However, thanks to the care and dedication of my two wonderful chiropractors, I am feeling much better (I could dance -- if only I knew how) and the rest of the story should be on track for the duration. 


	18. The captain's mess

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** The great-a beta, Stub.  
And everyone who expressed sympathy for my poor, spasm-y back. I'm much better now.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Eighteen - The captain's mess**

From the look on his chief engineer's face that evening, Jonathon Archer had a feeling dinner was going to be less pleasant than he'd been hoping.

In an effort to mend the fences damaged with the briefing's revelations, Archer had invited Trip to join him in the Captain's Mess. As both Rajiin and T'Pol were busy elsewhere -- Rajiin in Sickbay and T'Pol on the Bridge -- the captain had seen this as an opportunity for the two men to clear the air.

_'Mending fences' and 'clearing the air,'_ Archer thought. _Has our friendship resorted to a mix of bad clichés?_

As the two men waited for Crewman Pennyworth to deliver their meal, they shared an awkward silence. Archer remembered how he and Trip used to watch water polo for hours together with very little conversation between them. Now, however, the silence was nearly painful in its intensity.

Anxious to remove the vacuum that seemed to encompass his dining room, Archer cleared his throat. "Phlox says you've been looking for opinions on names for the twins."

Trip pulled his attention from the bulkhead behind Archer's head and regarded the captain. "It was just small talk while I was waiting for T'Pol to get dressed," he answered, shrugging. "We haven't had any serious discussion about it."

"Oh," Archer sighed, looking down at the empty place setting before him. If only their food would arrive, it would be a distraction from staring dumbly at each other -- or actively avoiding staring at each other.

"Can I ask you something, Cap'n?" Trip asked.

Archer nodded, grateful Trip was willing to try to talk.

"What the hell is going on?"

At Archer's blank stare, Trip clarified. "You've been distant from the entire crew for months. The only life I've seen from you was when Rajiin -- a woman who betrayed us -- came back aboard and you turn around and give her free reign of the ship. You're being less than forthcoming when it comes to sharing information with your crew. You've --"

"Trip," Archer interrupted. This wasn't how he'd envisioned their dinner conversation going. He'd hoped that if he showed some interest in Trip's life, his friend would do the same and they'd get back on track. He hadn't expected to have a laundry list of his faults read off to him. "This isn't why I invited you to join me."

"I know why you invited me to dinner, Cap'n. I miss our friendship, too, but I'm not just talking about the crew when I say you've been distant. Even T'Pol noticed that we don't hang out like we used to. We made excuses for ya -- we know this mission is taking it's toll -- but your attitude is affecting moral on the ship."

"You think _I've_ been distant the last couple months? What about you? When you're not on duty, you've spent all of your free time with T'Pol."

"Of course I'm spending time with T'Pol. She's carrying my children."

"You think I've forgotten that? Do you think, for one second, I can forget that my first officer is pregnant by my best friend?"

Trip's shoulders straightened. "I thought we were finally past this? How can you still think T'Pol and I --"

"I know you didn't plan this, Trip. I accepted that even before we knew about Rajiin's involvement. But do you know what it's like to have my first officer and best friend so occupied with each other? You're right, this mission is taking it's toll on me -- and the two people I rely on most haven't been around when I've needed them."

Trip was silent, staring in shock at his friend. "Cap'n, I didn't realize..."

"I know you didn't realize it, Trip. You and T'Pol have had a lot to deal with in the past six months. I can appreciate that. But this hasn't been a walk in the park for me, either. Maybe that's why I've welcomed Rajiin back so freely -- she's the first person who's listened to me in a long time. And I am sorry for not telling you about Xindi Prime," Archer's voice dropped, his tone softening. "I really thought you and T'Pol would want to know about the hybrids -- why they'd been created. It might not have been the best decision to keep the knowledge of the Xindi homeworld to myself, but I had thought I was doing the right thing for my friends."

"Is that why we're going to the Ceidé station instead of straight to Xindi Prime?" Trip asked. "Are you trying to make amends with me and T'Pol?"

"Partly," the captain admitted. "We need answers, but we also need allies. Rajiin says the Ceidé have been neutral in the past. Even while the Xindi were tearing each other apart, the Ceidé have aided both sides. If we can convince them that the Xindi are being manipulated, maybe they'd be could help us to stop the weapon and avert all-out war."

"Are you sure this entire thing isn't a ploy to lure us closer to the Xindi homeworld? Are you sure we can trust Rajiin?"

"I trust Rajiin, Trip. She made her mistake in the past, but she deserves a second chance." The captain sighed heavily. "Besides, if she was working with the Xindi, why would they want to lure us to their homeworld? We've spent almost a year searching for it."

Trip leaned back, ignoring the growl of his stomach as it demanded their still-absent dinner. "We're one ship. Against an entire planet, we don't stand much of a chance. If the Xindi wanted to remove us as a threat, that might be one way to do it. If these coordinates are for the homeworld at all."

"You're starting to sound like Malcolm," Archer said accusingly, then allowed his features to soften once more. "I've considered all of that, Trip. We're not going into this blind. Our goal was to find the Xindi homeworld and that's what we're going to do. We'll be on our guard, trap or not trap."

The captain could tell Trip wasn't completely satisfied with that, but he knew his friend well enough that he didn't expect any further arguments from him.

Confirming this, Trip said, "I admit I have no reason to trust Rajiin, not after what she did to T'Pol, but I do trust you. I may not invite Rajiin to the wedding, but I'll try not to object if you want to bring her with you."

"That's all I ask." Archer smiled at his friend, turning his attention to the door at the back of the dining area. "I wonder what's keeping Chef --" The captain spun back around and locked eyes with Trip. "What wedding?"

"Mine and T'Pol's. We want to get married."

Archer stared. He was pretty sure there was an intelligent and appropriate response to his friend's announcement, but he was damned if he knew what that was.

In fact, in his shock-addled brain, he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be responding intelligibly to.

Oh, that was right.

_What!?_

"You want to get married? Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Considering that we're going to be parents in five months, being married doesn't seem like a _bad_ idea."

Archer frowned. "Is the pregnancy the only reason you want to --"

"No!" Trip denied quickly. "No, of course not. I want to get married because I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love."

"Even if the woman you love will probably outlive you by another century?"

Trip paused at that, then countered, "There's a good chance none of us will live to see the end of this mission. If losing Lizzie taught me anything, it's not to waste the time we have."

Archer sighed heavily, wishing for his dinner and this conversation to be over. "I can appreciate that, Trip, I really can. But have you thought about this? What type of reaction you're going to get? Inter-species couples aren't likely to be widely accepted."

"I've never really cared much what others have thought of me and T'Pol's too important for me to start now."

Seeing that his friend was not going to be easily swayed, Archer asked, "I'm assuming T'Pol already agreed?"

An unreadable expression crossed Trip's face. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

"According to T'Pol," Trip leaned across the table, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "We're already married."  



	19. Tomato stains on my heart

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** To Stub the Beta Wonder!  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Ninteen - Tomato stains on my heart**

Hoshi didn't know when she became the unofficial _Enterprise_ party planner, but when they got back to Earth she was going to send Captain Archer an invoice for all the impromptu crew gatherings he'd placed her in charge of.

News of the pending nuptials of Command Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol had traveled the decks of _Enterprise _almost as quickly as the announcement of the pair's pending parenthood months before -- and it wasn't long before the linguist found herself coordinating the ceremony and reception.

In addition to the event being a celebration of the pair's union, the captain hoped it would be a nice diversion for the crew before encountering the Xindi. Though morale had been elevated with the goal of making contact with the Xindi in sight, the wedding would be a chance for everyone aboard to relax in a festive atmosphere before readying themselves for their coming task.

And -- the captain had stressed this repeatedly -- Hoshi had to accomplish all this with a limited use of ship's resources. Considering they were in the middle of oft-hostile territory and preparing for a potential war, those resources were indeed scarce.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this," Hoshi complained, taking a seat across from Malcolm in the midst of the Mess Hall lunch crowd.

Malcolm looked up from the PADD, graced Hoshi with a brief glance, then returned to his reading. "What don't you know how to do?"

"How am I supposed to plan a wedding for T'Pol and Commander Tucker when neither the bride nor groom is being very helpful?"

Malcolm, not bothering to look up from his PADD, shrugged. "Maybe you should let them plan the wedding themselves. It was their idea, after all."

"Actually, I get the impression T'Pol doesn't really care about the ceremony. She seems to just be going along with it for Commander Tucker's sake." Hoshi took a stab at her salad, the frustrated force of her fork launching a tomato at Malcolm.

Malcolm looked up as the tomato hit him in the chest, leaving a red splotch on his otherwise pristine uniform. The lieutenant looked down at the mess, sighed, and reached for his napkin. "Maybe you're putting too much thought into this. If we were on Earth, I wouldn't be surprised if the commander wanted a backyard barbecue to celebrate his marriage."

"I don't think T'Pol would really go for a barbecue," Hoshi said, dismissing the idea. "Besides, Chef probably wouldn't agree to grilling in the middle of the Mess Hall. I need something we can easily do right here on the ship."

Malcolm continued rubbing tomato remnants from his uniform, his intention focused on blotting and not rubbing the stain into permanence. The pattern of the tomato stain caught Hoshi's eye, reminding her of one of those Hawaiin-style shirts the commander wore.

"Malcolm!" Hoshi exclaimed, startling Malcolm into dropping the water he'd been using to clean himself onto his lap.

Hoshi ignored the security officer as he jumped from his seat, ice cubes falling to the floor and revealing a large wet spot from his abdomen to his knees. The linguist also jumped from her seat -- her enthusiasm a result of the brilliant idea she'd had and not the instant sensation of cold water on her sensitive areas. "Malcolm Reed, you're a genius!"

Malcolm didn't feel much like a genius, but he didn't say anything as Hoshi stole his PADD and began making notes on it. "I've got to talk to Chef," she said, half to herself and half to the sputtering lieutenant. "I wonder what type of plants Pam Isley can get me? Geology probably has sand I can use. Oh, this is going to be great!"

Malcolm's PADD clutched in her hand, Hoshi practically skipped out of the Mess Hall in her excitement. The security officer could do very little but stare as she ran off with his crew schedule and left him with his soggy uniform.

**_- - -_**

"Hey, Malcolm," Trip called, jogging along the corridor to catch up to his friend. Stopping along side him, the engineer did a double-take at the large red stain on the security officer's usually immaculate uniform. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I believe you did," Malcolm grumbled, quickening his pace in the direction of his quarters.

"I did?" Trip asked. "What did I do? I've been in Engineering all morning."

"All this talk of your wedding is making everyone crazy," Malcolm explained. "Hoshi is a walking disaster because she's trying to plan the festivities."

Trip nodded in sympathy, though he wasn't quite sure what was Malcolm was saying. "Hoshi did this to you? You should make her do your laundry."

Malcolm grumbled, "I'm still waiting on the t-shirt I lent her during the Suliban fiasco a year ago." It wasn't truly the engineer's fault that his uniform was dirty, but he was a convenient target.

The two men walked in silence until they reached the security officer's door.

"If you don't mind, I have to change before I go on duty."

"Actually," Trip said, following Malcolm into the cabin. "I wanted to ask you a favor."

Malcolm looked suspicious. "What kind of favor?"

"I was wondering if you'd stand with me at the wedding?"

"You want me to be your best man?" The lieutenant's irritability was quickly replaced with surprise. "What about the captain?"

"The Cap'n's performing the ceremony," Trip answered, then realized it was possibly not the best response. "Not that you're second choice or anything."

"That thought hadn't occurred to me."

"Does that mean you'll do it?"

"I'm not going to have to plan anything and go crazy like Hoshi, am I?"

Trip smiled widely. "Don't worry. Hoshi can be crazy all by herself."

Malcolm snorted at that.

**_- - -_**

While some members of the crew were preoccupied with plans for the pending nuptials, Travis was hard at work in the Command Center.

Seated at the console where he'd taken residence hours earlier, the young pilot glanced up from his display screen to address the Vulcan science officer across the room. "How reliable do you think this information is, Sub-Commander?"

T'Pol looked up from her own console and tilted her head slightly. Not that he'd minded the severe protocol of the pre-pregnancy T'Pol, but this maternal T'Pol just seemed...softer, somehow. Whether the change in demeanor was from the pregnancy or her increased intimacy with Commander Tucker, Travis knew that more and more crew members -- even those who'd never really taken a liking to the the Vulcan -- had noticed.

After a moment of hesitation, as though measuring her response, T'Pol answered, "Though I am not certain how far we should be trusting Rajiin, her information does seem correct when compared to the data we have already collected on the Xindi."

Travis nodded. He felt the same way. He'd never gotten close enough for Rajiin to work her mojo on him and, from an outside perspective, he saw her actions as pure betrayal of a trust that was bought with lies. Travis was surprised the captain had so quickly welcomed the alien woman back aboard the ship. Rajiin had been more than helpful since her return, but the ensign couldn't help but wonder if she was being _too _helpful.

"There is a chance that Rajiin would know we would attempt to validate her information, "T'Pol continued, voicing Travis' own doubts. "We cannot be assured of her loyalty, no matter how accommodating she seems to be."

"You don't trust her, either."

"Though she has been helpful since coming aboard, Rajiin has given us little reason to trust her."

Travis turned his chair so he faced the first officer. "Do you think maybe she's being _too _helpful?" Travis asked, leaning forward. "Like she's setting us up again?"

"The thought had occurred to me," T'Pol admitted. She placed a hand over the increasing swell of her abdomen. "I think it is important that Rajiin believe we do trust her. It is more likely that any secrets she may be hiding would be more quickly exposed if she were at ease with members of the crew."

Travis nodded in understanding. "You want to lull her into a false sense of security."

"Humans have a saying, I believe. 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'" T'Pol stood. "If you will excuse me, Dr. Phlox is expecting me in Sickbay."

"I want to finish aligning these maps Rajiin provided with the ones from the Xindi database."

**_- - -_**

"Hey there, Darlin'." Trip smiled widely at his favorite Vulcan as the turbolift doors parted to reveal a waiting T'Pol.

"Good morning, Commander," T'Pol returned, stepping into the turbolift with him.

"I thought you were going to drop the 'commander' and call me Trip," he teased. "We're not even on duty."

"Nicknames should be reserved for the privacy of our quarters, _Commander_."

Trip frowned at her. "It's a good thing you're cute, otherwise I might be upset."

"I do not find you aesthetically displeasing, either."

Trip grinned widely. "I bet you were a cute kid, too."

T'Pol arched an eyebrow at him. "Vulcan parents do not label their children as 'cute.'"

"Aw, c'mon, T'Pol. Even if your parents didn't say it out loud, I bet they thought you were adorable. All kids are cute." He thought a moment. "Well, most kids, anyway."

T'Pol arched an eyebrow at him. "Need I remind you the importance of not applying your Human ideal of aesthetics to alien cultures?"

"Alien nothing. I was just thinking about my cousin Byron's kid. Man, he grew up all right, but I've never seen such an ugly baby." To emphasize his point, Trip shuddered.

"I trust you refrained from sharing this observation with your cousin?"

"Well of course I did. It wasn't Byron's fault his wife carried an ugly gene."

"How do you know it was not your cousin who carried the 'ugly gene'?"

"There's never been an ugly baby in the history of the Tucker family." He smiled widely. "We were all beautiful babies, myself included."

T'Pol declined to comment as the lift continued its journey toward Sickbay.

"So who do you think the kids will look like? I mean, Phlox said there's that chance they might not even look like a Human or a Vulcan."

"Will it matter?"

"No," Trip answered quickly, his hand touching hers. "Whoever -- or whatever -- they look like, they're still our kids and I'm gonna love 'em." 


	20. Prewedding jitters

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** To Stub the Beta Wonder!   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty - Pre-wedding jitters**

_I'm getting married tomorrow_.

Seated at his desk, going over data collected during the last warp coil test, Trip still found it hard to believe that, in only a matter of hours, T'Pol would be his wife.

Granted, according to her, they were already wed, it wouldn't seem real to Trip until the captain made it official and T'Pol was wearing his ring on her finger.

Setting the data aside, Trip looked at the two small bands sitting on his desk. Malcolm had helped him find scrap to melt down and form into matching rings that would physically symbolize the bond between Trip and T'Pol. With all the damage _Enterprise_ had sustained in the Expanse, it had been easy enough to find spare elements.

With the rings he forged, Trip and T'Pol would literally have a piece of _Enterprise_ with them long after they resigned their commissions to the ship.

And, though it pained him, Trip had every intention of making this mission his last. As soon as they found the Xindi and averted their attack -- of which he couldn't help but be confident -- he planned to request a planetside posting so that he could be with his family.

Picking up the smaller of the two rings, Trip rolled it between his fingers and allowed his mind to wander. There were so many things he looked forward to experiencing with T'Pol and their children. He'd take them camping at Yosemite. They'd spend holidays with the Tucker clan in Florida. He'd teach the kids how to fly, maybe even show them how to build their own engine. He could imagine T'Pol seated on the front porch -- they'd have a front porch -- and watching as Trip and the twins played baseball in the front yard. After sending the kids to bed, Trip would lead T'Pol to their room where--

_Okay, Trip, _he admonished. _Time to calm down_.

Though T'Pol was progressing by leaps and bounds in the physical displays of affection, they hadn't really talked about _that _aspect of marital life. Trip had no doubt making love to his Vulcan bride would be spectacular, but he didn't want to rush T'Pol into anything she wasn't ready for.

As soon as she was ready, however, Trip had no problem imagining the different scenarios married life to T'Pol could bring...and each of them would no doubt bring a green flush to the science officer's cheeks if she happened to be reading his thoughts at the time.

Setting T'Pol's ring back down next to his, Trip picked up the warp data and attempted once again to get his mind off the physical and back to physics. After only a few minutes of reading the PADD, unfortunately, Trip's mind began to wander once again to the Vulcan residing next door.

He briefly toyed with the idea of walking over and seeing if T'Pol was up for another kissing lesson. Aware that she was probably meditating, he didn't want to risk intruding on her thoughts or interrupt her. In fact, if T'Pol _was_ meditating, he should probably try a little harder to make sure his own thoughts weren't straying out of his head. His Vulcan had a difficult enough time concentrating with the twins' causing a distraction that he didn't need to complicate things even more for her.

Taking a deep breath, Trip attempted to clear his mind and focused his attention once again on the warp data.

Trip got through a full page before the door announcer chimed.   
  
_Probably Malcolm or the Cap'n wanting to wish me luck_. "Come in."

Half-expecting to see one of his male friends with a bottle of alcohol in hand, Trip was more than a little surprised when a robe-clad T'Pol entered his quarters.

His mind already half in the gutter, Trip found it hard not to think about how a robe-clad T'Pol had been at the beginning of most of his fantasies. Clearing his throat and keeping his attention away from the considerable amount of leg T'Pol's clothing revealed, Trip said, "I thought Hoshi told you it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride the night before the wedding?"

"Since you are already my husband, I doubt that rule applies." It could have been his hormone-addled brain, but Trip could have sworn T'Pol's voice sounded lower than usual -- husky, even. Clutching the PADD tightly in his hand, he forced his eyes down to the numbers that, at the moment, made very little sense to him.

"What are you working on, Commander?" T'Pol asked, her breath caressing his ear. In his effort to concentrate on the PADD, he hadn't noticed T'Pol moving to stand behind him at the desk.

He swallowed, audibly. "I'm just reviewing some warp data..." He trailed off, turning to see the look in T'Pol's eyes. "T'Pol? Are you alright?"

In answer, T'Pol bent her head close to his and examined the data in his hand. "I see your coil modifications had the desired increase on warp efficiency."

"What?" Trip asked, his eyes mesmerized by the expanse of smooth flesh the opening of T'Pol's robe afforded him as she leaned forward.

"The warp coil modifications," T'Pol reminded him. "You had discussed them yesterday during lunch."

"Right. Warp efficiency." Trip pulled his eyes away from ogling the sub-commander's cleavage to the PADD. "These numbers are pretty good, but I actually had another idea...Uh, T'Pol...what are you doing?" His voice trailed off as he felt the light pressure of T'Pol's tongue tracing the outside of his ear.

"Does this not please you?" she asked, moving from his ear to trace his jawline with her lips.

"I...I'm...well, I find it very pleasing but I'm not sure...what are you...oh, that's nice." He sighed as she focused her attention back on his ear, sucking gently on the lobe.

"You are familiar with the Vulcan sex drive?" T'Pol asked, the soft sound of her voice wreaking as much havoc on his senses as her tongue had done moments before.

"Yeah," Trip answered, nearly breathless in the surge of feeling coursing through his body. "They mate every seven years or die."

T'Pol pulled his chair away from the desk, turning it so that he faced her. "That is mostly correct. In theory, an unbonded female can live her entire life without mating. It is the trigger of the male's _pon farr_ every seven years that creates her need for copulation."

Trip looked at her, seeing the smoldering fire of lust in her eyes. The thoughts he'd entertained earlier...Was she saying that her sex drive had been triggered? "But...but I'm not Vulcan."

T'Pol ran her hands along his chest before finally clasping the zipper of his uniform and tugging it down to expose the black shirt he wore underneath. "We are still bonded. Your arousal is enough to stimulate my own."

"So if we don't...y'know...you'll die?" he asked, concern for her well-being shaking some of the lust from his mind.

"I doubt it. But neither of us is likely to get much rest tonight, either." She stood, stepping back as she moved her hands to the sash of her robe. "Do you object, Commander?"

"If you'd stop calling me 'Commander' it might help." He grinned, an amazing feat considering the tumult of thoughts and emotions coursing through him. On one hand, a beautiful woman was standing before him with every intention of seducing him -- practically living out one of his earlier fantasies. It was that very fact which gave him pause.

"Is it just because of the bond that you're here, T'Pol? If I wasn't sending out horny signals would you still want to do this?"

Her answer was to untie her robe and let it pool to the floor.

Trip's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, his brain trying in vain to send signals to it.

"I do not believe I've ever seen you speechless, Commander."

"Well...uh...I don't believe I've ever seen you naked, Sub-Commander." Since this was his first opportunity to truly study "alien anatomy," he allowed his gaze to move slowly from her chin -- which was where he'd focused in preservation of modesty -- and down the length of her body, taking in the swell of her stomach where their children resided. When he reached her toes, he quickly brought his eyes back up and glued them to her face. "And...now I have."

"Are you not going to return the courtesy?"

"What?" he asked, unable to think as he couldn't decide which part of his anatomy was control.

"The polite thing would be for you to remove your clothing, Commander, and return the gesture."

"You're serious?"

"I am."

He still wasn't sure if he was ready for this. Sure, they were getting married in a matter of hours...but he'd had every intention of taking things slowly and allowing T'Pol to get used to his physical presence before actually getting physical.

Trip was halfway through his thought when T'Pol, in single-minded Vulcan fashion, made the decision for him. Before he knew it, he had been pulled from his chair and pushed onto the bunk. 


	21. You may now kiss the Vulcan

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** To SuperBeta Stub!  
To all you wonderful readers out there. Thank you!!  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-One - You may now kiss the Vulcan**

Not counting the sale of slaves to their new masters, Rajiin had never been witness to the type of ceremony that bound one being to another. From what little information Rajiin was able to derive from Dr. Phlox -- whose own knowledge of Human mating rituals was limited -- there would be the ceremony performed in the Mess Hall and a party afterward.

Though he did not say anything, Rajiin could tell Jonathon was not entirely pleased with this turn of events. She could have easily pried into his mind to determine his thoughts on the matter, but after lengthy discussions with Phlox she had learned that Humans -- as well as most other species -- did not appreciate having their private thoughts read without their permission.

The Denobulan physician was a fount of knowledge for the socially-challenged Rajiin. As a slave, she had learned through experience to anticipate her master's immediate needs and satisfy them in as efficient a manner as possible. Interacting with beings who did not view her as being beneath them was more challenging than she would have ever thought.

Attending the wedding of Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol was an opportunity to socialize with the crew; to "be herself" as Phlox and Jonathon encouraged.

- - -

Despite a rocky start, Hoshi had to admit that the wedding preparations had turned out surprisingly well. When this was all over, she was going to treat herself to the largest ice cream sundae Chef would let her get away with.

Of course, she still had one final task to complete: dressing the bridge.

"Are you sure all of these are necessary, Ensign?" the Vulcan bride asked, survey the items Hoshi had spent the morning collecting.

Hoshi, finally satisfied with the placement of the floral wreath she had fashioned for T'Pol to wear in her hair, took a step back and admired her handiwork. "You don't want to start your married life out on the wrong foot, T'Pol."

"Vulcans do not believe in superstitions. They are illogical." T'Pol stepped to the mirror and eyed her appearance, her attention drawn to the strain of floral material over her abdomen.

"But you believe in tradition, and this is more of a tradition than a superstition," Hoshi explained. "I don't think anyone really believes in this stuff anymore, but it can't hurt."

"You are not the one who will be wearing a Denobulan coin in your shoe."

"Well, if Malcolm had been a proper Englishman I would have been able to borrow a sixpence from him. Phlox's coin was the best I could do -- even if it is kind of big. You only have to wear it during the ceremony." Though the science officer didn't necessarily like it, Hoshi had a feeling T'Pol knew her effort would be appreciated by Commander Tucker and pleasing the Human seemed high on the Vulcan's priority list.

"It is only for a short time," T'Pol agreed, turning from the mirror and focusing on the remaining items. "Please explain the significance of the rest of the poem."

- - -

From his seat in the front row, Phlox marveled at the tropical paradise that had taken over the Mess Hall in a matter of hours. It was hard to believe only that morning he'd enjoyed breakfast with Crewman Isley at a now-absent table by the window.

The doctor had known from his conversation with the young botanist that her lab was pulling overtime to get as many large, flowering plants as they had available ready for the matrimonial festivities, but he hadn't expected anything like this. He made a note to congratulate Isley and her team on a job well done. If the Denobulan hadn't known better, he could have believed that he had stepped onto another world.

In addition to the flowers that adorned the alter -- a cargo crate Ensign Sato had covered with colorful wrapping -- and lined the center aisle, Phlox noted that several crewmen were sporting colorful lais around their necks. He, too, was wearing an authentic lai he'd received and preserved from his trip to the isles of Hawaii.

To further the tropical theme, the geology department provided sand to form the center aisle and created the marked the boundaries of the altar.

Rajiin, seated next to him with flowers braided through her long hair, leaned toward Phlox. "What is this music, Doctor? It is unlike anything I have ever heard."

The doctor, who had not noticed the music until she asked, paused in uncertainty.

"It's Elvis," Ensign Mayweather provided, leaning forward from his position in the second row. "Commander Tucker's favorite."

"Oh, I remember!" Phlox proclaimed. "This is the man Humans called 'The King of Rock and Roll.'"

"The king of rocks and rolls?" Rajiin asked, clearly puzzled.

Before Phlox or Mayweather could explain, the music in question was replaced with the more subdued tones of flutes and bird calls -- a mix provided by Ensign Sato to retain the tropical mood.

At the subtle cue, every head in the Mess Hall turned as the doors behind them opened.

Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed, both dressed in colorful shirts obviously borrowed from Commander Tucker's extensive collection, stood in the entranceway. If either man was uncomfortable in the outrageous patterns they wore, they hid it well -- even when a low whistle sounded as the lieutenant marched up the flower-strewn aisle behind his commanding officer.

Sparing the security officer further scrutiny as his face flushed red, Phlox turned his attention once again to the back in time to watch Commander Tucker's entrance. Though the engineer had gradually shown more signs of life with each passing month since his sister's death, Phlox scarce believe the pure joy that radiated from the expectant groom. It was difficult, but the doctor refrained from congratulating himself too heartily for insisting that T'Pol instruct the engineer in the art of neuropressure to deal with his grief.

As the commander continued up the aisle, Phlox wondered if perhaps Rajiin should share his matchmaking kudos -- she had done more than provide an antidote with her request of the Ceidé. With the introduction of his children -- and Phlox was pleased that the Human so readily accepted the hybrids as such -- the doctor had no doubt Commander Tucker had been given a new reason to hope for a future of happiness beyond the Xindi mission.

In his reverie, Phlox missed the entrance of Ensign Sato, dressed in a floral dress several decibels lower than the shirts her male counterparts wore. Catching her attention, the doctor shared a wide smile with the linguist before craning his neck toward the back so not to miss the arrival of the bride.

His gaze locked on the doorway just in time as T'Pol came into view. His mild surprise at her lack of dress in one of the more formal robes of her people was quickly replaced by delight. If there had ever been a doubt that the Vulcan sub-commander and Human commander were right for each other, it was erased by her choice of clothing. Where the engineer had embraced T'Pol's culture by accepting the mind meld and telepathic connection to the children, the science officer was returning the favor by taking part in the commander's less-than-logical sense of tradition.

Wearing a floor-length wrap in a similar pattern to the floral design of Ensign Sato's, T'Pol strode up the aisle. Despite the generous folds of the garment, the Denobulan could not help but notice that the dress draped over the increasing swell of the expectant mother's abdomen.

Taking the engineer's offered hand, T'Pol and Commander Tucker both turned to face Captain Archer as he began the ceremony.

- - -

"By the power vested in me as captain of the _Entprises_, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Beaming with happiness, Hoshi watched as Commander Tucker didn't even wait for the captain to say "You may now kiss the bride" before the engineer dipped T'Pol dramatically in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. The Vulcan, for her part, didn't resist at her husband's very Human display of affection. 


	22. It looked nicer in the brochure

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** To Stub. Beta extraordinaire.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Two - It looked nicer in the brochure**

"Captain, we're approaching the Ceidé space station."

Archer nodded his head at Travis' announcement and turned to Hoshi at the Communications station. "Try hailing them, Ensign."

"Aye, sir." Not looking up from her console, Hoshi broadcast the ship's standard greeting in all the languages and frequencies she had at her disposal. Though Rajiin had assured the _Enterprise_ crew that the Ceidé possessed translators that would make communication with them easy, Hoshi didn't want to run the risk of presuming -- and unintentionally insulting -- the scientists.

Plus, the linguist didn't trust Rajiin any more than the rest of the crew did.

After several moments, Hoshi frowned. "There's no response, sir."

"Are we in visual range yet?"

At the captain's implied command, Travis put the station -- still some distance away -- on the main viewscreen. As _Enterprise_ continued her approach, members of the Bridge crew found it difficult to hide their dismay at the image before them.

From Rajiin's information, the Ceidé station was a giant, floating laboratory composed of five separate spheres. Four of these these spheres were used to simulate different criteria of environmental conditions suitable for conducting scientific experiments. Corridors ran from the center sphere to its four smaller -- though each easily twice the size of _Enterprise_ -- companions.

The image in her mind, compared to the sea of destruction on the viewscreen, was enough to turn Hoshi's stomach.

From what the linguist could see, only three spheres remained -- and only one of those was intact. The other two were both missing large sections; their debris mingling with the remains of their counterparts.

"Life signs?" Archer demanded, spinning on his heel and focusing on T'Pol already working her console.

"I am detecting no life signs." Though the Vulcan's expression was as calm as ever, Hoshi could only imagine what she was going through. In addition to the loss of life this type of destruction no doubt resulted in, finding the Ceidé had been their one hope of learning the truth about the twins T'Pol carried.

With the scientists' potential destruction...

"It's possible the debris is interfering with our sensors, Captain," Malcolm offered, drawing the captain's attention toward the security officer. "The closest sphere has suffered the least amount of structural damage. I suggest sending a team aboard in case there are survivors."

"Is there any indication that who did this is still in the area?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Sensors aren't detecting any vessels, sir."

The captain considered this before nodding. "Take Trip and a couple of MACOs. See if you can find anything salvageable to tell us exactly what happened."

- - -

During the past several months, Trip had spent a lot of time learning how to control his thoughts and feelings in an effort not to overwhelm his Vulcan mate with his very human emotions. It had been a gradual process, with the first weeks after the paternal -- and then the marital -- bond forcing T'Pol to keep the barriers of her mind at "full power" while he learned to shield his own.

The effort had been successful, with the newly wedded couple able to share an awareness of one another while still able to function in their own individual capacity.

Going about his shift that morning, Trip had enjoyed the presence of his wife in the back of his mind. It was a feeling he'd never thought possible -- and one he never wanted to be without. It was as T'Pol had told him of the Vulcan bonding: never and always touching and touched.

Even amidst the chaos of whatever crisis the warp engine threw his way -- with his crew scrambling to make repairs or demanding his attention -- there was a calm in the back of his mind that was T'Pol.

So when, in the middle of fixing light panels on C-deck, Trip felt that calm fracture into a storm of emotion, he wasn't surprised to receive a harried call from Malcolm to meet the lieutenant on the docking bay.

For a moment, Trip was tempted to ignore Malcolm and instead head to the Bridge to check on his wife. To have something rattle her badly enough for him to feel the shockwave in his mind, he _knew_ something had to be wrong.

Even as he thought that, however, he felt an assurance from T'Pol that he was needed elsewhere. The strength of his mind would suit her until she could enjoy his physical presence.

With a promise to have his physical presence available to her as soon as possibly, Trip gathered his tools and prepared for the away mission. A half-hour later, as he piloted the shuttlepod through the debris field, Trip knew that his wife and her logic had been right, as usual.

"I don't like this," Malcolm muttered from his seat behind the pilot's chair.

"Which part?" Trip asked, turning his attention from assessing the damaged the sphere to the tactical officer as he fidgeted with the equipment on his EV suit.

Malcolm leaned forward before he answered, probably in an effort to keep their conversation from the three MACOs riding in the rear of the craft. "How do we know that this isn't one big setup on the part of Rajiin and the Xindi? This could be one elaborate trap with the Ceidé as unfortunate casualties. If the Ceidé even exist. This entire episode seems a might suspicious."

"I don't like Rajiin any more than you do, Malcolm. Less, probably. But she's somehow convinced the Cap'n that she's worth trusting. We may not have seen eye to eye in the last couple of months, but I can't believe that he'd allow himself to be fooled twice."

Malcolm snorted and Trip couldn't help but smile. The lieutenant was as loyal and duty-abiding as they came -- which made any sign of disagreement with his superior officer's orders that much more interesting to see.

"Besides," Trip continued, "if Rajiin is up to something, I think the Cap'n's about to find out. He went to question her shortly after we left."

"How do you know?"

Trip grimaced, unsure how to explain that his wife had told him -- without use of a communicator. Malcolm was a good friend, but the bond with T'Pol was such a personal thing for Vulcans -- and for him -- that Trip didn't know if he could really explain it without feeling as though he was betraying some Vulcan code.

Rather than answer, Trip examined the 'pod's console. "I don't see any type of docking port, but there's a large enough breach that I think I can maneuver us into the sphere. It's not as big as a bay, but we'll fit."

Malcolm nodded, turning his attention to the MACOs and briefing them. The tactical officer may have his qualms about the military group's presence on his ship -- and their commander in general -- but Trip had to admit that they knew how to follow orders. And, not that he didn't have every faith in Malcolm's people, Trip did feel a lot better entering the sphere with the three commandos in tow.

---

**Author's note: **I am so sorry that this story -- and others -- have been delayed the last month. A lack of working power adapter to charge my iBook and annoying delays on the part of the computer store have basically left me without a computer for the last several weeks. I hope you can all forgive this inconvenience and continue to enjoy the rest of the story. Thank you. 


	23. Some assembly required

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** To everyone who's read and reviewed this story. I'm sorry I haven't had the time to write like I would like in the last couple months, but I appreciate all your reviews and hope that, as we enter the home stretch, this story continues to meet your expectations.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Three - Some assembly required**

Seated in the command seat of the _Enterprise_, Jonathon Archer frowned as he listened with the rest of the Bridge crew to Malcolm and Trip's report of their findings -- or lack thereof -- aboard the Ceidé station.

"What do you mean you haven't found anything, Trip? You've been over there for an hour."

"What I'm trying to say, Cap'n, is there isn't anything over here _to_ find. We've been through the entire station. Either the Ceidé cleared out of here before the attack, or whoever opened fire on them did a helluva job cleaning up after themselves."

Archer looked over his shoulder at T'Pol, noting the tilt of her head as she listened to her husband's description.

_Her husband. _Despite the situation, Archer had to take a moment to reflect on that. Three years ago, he never would have guessed that his first officer and the man originally slated for the position be married. It had been a pleasant enough surprise when the two commanders hadn't killed each other.

"Are you able to access the Ceidé computer, Commander?" the science officer asked. Archer wasn't surprised that, while on duty, T'Pol was all-business.

Her spouse, on the other hand...

There was a heavy sigh before the engineer answered, "We've come across a few terminals, Darlin', but the core is gone. It's impossible to investigate when there's nothing _here _to investigate."

The frustration his friend's voice was similar to the disappointment Archer felt at not being able to find answers -- or potential allies -- aboard the Ceidé station. In addition to not being able to get what they'd come looking for, _Enterprise_ had delayed plotting a course for Xindi Prime. With their current position, they were at least a month away from the coordinates Rajiin had provided. Granted, this side trip was providing the time necessary for Rajiin and Phlox to develop a cure to the Xindi bio-weapon, but to have come all this way for nothing --

As a last resort, Archer asked, "Trip, is there anything we can salvage? Equipment we can use aboard _Enterprise_?"

"I'm telling you, Cap'n, there's _nothing_ over here. Not anything useful, anyway. Malcolm and Hawkins are checking out the upper levels, but I doubt they'll find any more than Chang and I have."

"Actually, Commander," Malcolm broke in. "I believe we may have stumbled across something at least marginally useful."

Considering the security officer's knack for understatement, Archer couldn't help but feel hopeful. "What have you got, Malcolm?"

"I can't be sure until Commander Tucker takes a look, but just it may be the answer to our long-range communications problem."

- - **_-_**

Despite hopes that, once successfully installed, the Ceidé communications relay would enable _Enterprise_ to contact Starfleet for the first time in two months, Trip couldn't help his less-than-optimistic feelings on the matter.

When they'd come into the Expanse nine months ago, he'd wanted nothing more than to find the Xindi -- any Xindi -- and make them pay for the death of his sister and seven million other people.

Then, slowly, that rage had lessened to be replaced by the wonder of pending fatherhood -- a state neither he nor T'Pol could explain. The knowledge that two new lives were going to depend on him -- already relied on him -- gave him reason to live.

And love.

If circumstances had been different; if the Ceidé hadn't interfered, there was a good chance Trip and T'Pol would have never discovered how deeply they cared for each other.

Having found that connection to the beautiful Vulcan, Trip couldn't believe he'd lived so long without it.

It was that connection -- that bond -- that pulled him toward Engineering. He'd yet to see his wife since returning from the Ceidé station and Trip was anxious to check on her. Through their connection, he could feel that the earlier storm of finding the Ceidé wreckage had dissipated, but he wanted to see with his own eyes that she was okay.

Stepping into Engineering, Trip's eyes were drawn to the upper level where he spotted the aqua velour of his wife's newly refitted uniform. Almost overnight, it seemed, her battle with the tight-fitting clothing of the previous months had been lost and she was resigned to wearing the new wardrobe several of the _Enterprise_ women had created for her.

Trip smiled at the memory of T'Pol's brief -- and illogically vain -- thought of her own appearance as she had looked in the mirror that morning. He'd quickly reassured her that she was still the prettiest Vulcan he'd ever seen -- and been reassured, himself, that the growing protrusion of her front limited T'Pol to using the 'lift and and not the service ladders.

Climbing quickly up the greatly contested ladder, Trip joined his wife on the upper level. "How's this for a honeymoon?"

Seated at the _Enterprise_ communications array, T'Pol looked up at her husband's entrance. "Based on Ensign Sato's description, I don't think our attempting to graft alien technology to the ship's systems is in the true spirit of a honeymoon."

"Well, in a perfect world, we'd be holed up in some nice island resort right about now. But, since we don't really have that option, we can at least enjoy the opportunity to spend time together." To emphasize his statement, he extended two fingers and touched them to T'Pol's. The physical connection allowed an instant strengthening of the mental bond.

Her fingers still touching his, T'Pol allowed a hint of a smile to grace her lips. "I still find it intriguing that you find the amount of time we spend together to be inadequate."

"Every moment with you is a pleasure, Darlin,'" Trip said, grinning widely as they pulled their hands apart. "How could I not want more of it?"

Though T'Pol declined to comment, the engineer felt her ripple of pleasure at his statement. He would have teased her about that, would have tried to draw that hint of a smile into a full blown admission, but he sensed that his wife -- ever the workaholic -- was ready to focus on the business at hand.

"So, how you doing?" he asked, indicating the alien device that sat at her feet. "Any progress?"

"I believe I have created an adequate interface for the Ceidé relay to be integrated with our own." T'Pol handed him a PADD with a series of calculations on it. "However, I am having difficulty maintaining a proper power flow to the new device. Three power couplings have already met an unfortunate end."

Trip looked over the PADD, his head nodding. "I think I see the problem. The interface is overriding the Ceidé device's basic power algorithm. The device starts up, thinks it isn't getting enough power, and tries drawing in more than it can handle."

"Can you fix it?"

"I think so. We'll just have to add a power regulator to the interface you created. It'll play tug-of-war with the Ceidé device and keep it from overloading." Trip shrugged. "It's not a perfect fix, but it'll be a lot faster than trying to rewrite alien programming."

T'Pol nodded, watching as Trip made adjustments to the calculations on her PADD. "That should be sufficient for our purposes. When we have completed the interface, Ensign Sato will make the necessary adjustments so that we may contact Starfleet. She would also like to install an encryption protocol. While we are this close to Xindi space, it would be best not to broadcast our position or intentions."

"Let's get to work then. Sooner we're done here, the sooner we can go spend some true honeymoon time together."

- - **_-_**

Three hours and two more power couplings later, Trip and T'Pol left the new and improved communications array in the hands of the capable Ensign Sato.

Standing outside his door, Trip indicated the charred sleeve of his uniform. "Just give me a minute to change and I'll be right over. Maybe we'll run to the Mess and see if Chef kept anything warm for us."

T'Pol refrained from reminding her husband that most anything Chef prepared could be easily warmed up for late dinner arrivals as she pressed the door release. At the same same time, both husband and wife stepped into their respective quarters.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Trip unzipped his uniform and shrugged his arm free. Turning to release the other arm, he paused at the movement he saw out of the corner of his eye.

"T'Pol?"

Turning slowly, he stared in disbelief at the lack of wall separating his cabin from his wife's. He took a step forward, matching T'Pol's movement.

"This isn't the way we left it."

T'Pol joined him in examining the beam that used to support the wall that once separated their quarters. Turning as one, the couple looked into Trip's cabin and then T'Pol's.

"There was a wall when we left this morning, right?" he asked.

"Indeed."

The Tuckers stared at one another for a moment when their disbelief was interrupted by the sound of the wall communicator.

Since it was the coming from T'Pol's side, Trip stood still as his wife moved to answer it.

"This is T'Pol."

"How are you enjoying the honeymoon suite?"

"Captain?" T'Pol asked, surprised by the jovial tone in her commanding officer's voice -- especially considering the numerous setbacks of the day.

"While the two of you were working on the communications relay, Rostov and his team did some redecorating," the captain explained. "Sorry they didn't get a chance to install the larger bunk yet."

_A larger bunk?_ Trip joined his wife as she stared at the communicator -- an illogical action to be sure since Archer couldn't see the look of confusion on their faces.

_Was this _your_ idea, Husband?_

"What makes you think this was my idea?" Trip asked, wincing when he realized he'd asked aloud.

"I didn't ask if this was your idea, Trip," the captain said, confusion in his voice. "It was actually Rostov and Hess. Your crew went through a lot of trouble to keep this a surprise. Not to mention the effort it took to convince me to let them."

"You authorized this, Cap'n?"

"I doubt Starfleet envisioned a need for family quarters aboard, but, considering the circumstances, I agreed with your engineers. The two of you have already made several steps toward bridging cultural differences. You don't need another wall between you." 


	24. Hitchin' a ride

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Special Thanks:** 310 reviews. This story has received **310 reviews**. I cannot tell you how much everyone's kind words, encouragement and enjoyment of this story means to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Four - _Hitchin' a Ride_**

"I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing, Ambassador, but I already told your staff that we have heard nothing new from _Enterprise_." Seated behind his desk, Maxwell Forrest was thankful for the expanse of oak that separated him from the severe features of the Vulcan diplomat.

"I find it hard to believe that Archer and his crew would not report regularly to you on their progress, Admiral," Soval said. "Are you withholding information simply because the Vulcan High Command refused to assist you in Earth's plight?"

Forrest stood, his fist pounding the desk at the Vulcan's accusation. "Humans may be petty creatures in your eyes, Soval, but I can't believe you could think I would withhold information about _Enterprise_. If I had any information to share about the ship or Sub-Commander T'Pol, you have to know that I would."

Soval bowed his head slightly, the only hint of an apology Forrest would receive. "I do not mean to imply that you would deny a father knowledge of his daughter's safety, Admiral Forrest. I only meant -- "

"You only meant that I was keeping information from you because I didn't want you telling the High Command anything," Forrest interrupted. "That isn't the case here, but, if it was, I don't think you have any right to complain after all the secrets the Vulcans have kept from us."

The ambassador's spine, if at all possible, stiffened at Forrest's statement.

"The truth, Ambassador, is that we're all a little on edge after two months without word from _Enterprise_. We knew we probably wouldn't be able to maintain communications the further they ventured into the Expanse." Forrest sighed, sitting down again. "We can only hope it's interference from the anomalies Archer told us about and not some other, less pleasant cause."

Before Soval could comment, a noise sounded from the computer on the admiral's desk. The admiral's first instinct was to ignore it but the computer beeped again, this time in rapid succession.

Forrest scowled at the machine before answering it with every intention of reprimanding his secretarial officer. "I'm with the Vulcan Ambassador, Ensign Grayson. You know better than to interrupt --"

"But, sir," Grayson cut in. "We're receiving a message from _Enterprise_."

- - **_-_**

"Jonathon!" Forrest greeted as the _Enterprise_ bridge filled the viewscreen. "It's about time you made contact. We were beginning to worry."

Jonathon smiled at the admiral. "I'm sorry about that, Admiral, but we've had some difficulty getting a signal through the Expanse."

Forrest nodded, glancing briefly at Soval. For reasons the admiral didn't press, the Vulcan wished to remain out of sight during the conversation with the Earth vessel. Forrest imagined it was enough for Soval to see that his daughter was alive and well without having to dredge up the disagreement they had before _Enterprise_ left spacedock.

Of course, Soval had no way of knowing that Forrest was aware of the very calm and Vulcan-like argument that took place between the ambassador and T'Pol. But there was very little that went on at Starfleet Command that Forrest wasn't aware of.

"A difficulty getting your signal through was our guess -- and our hope, Jon. Two months without word was enough to make us assume the worst."

"You'll be pleased to know that the last two months have been productive, Admiral. We are currently enroute to the Xindi homeworld."

At Archer's announcement, Forrest looked -- _really_ looked -- at the Bridge crew. To an experienced commander's eye, he could see the exhaustion -- both physical and emotional -- etched on each officer' face. Even T'Pol, seated at the science station, looked as though the mission had taken its toll on her. But beneath all that, each member of the crew wore a look of resolved determination.

"We're not entirely sure what to expect when we arrive," the _Enterprise_ captain continued, "But we're about a month's travel away. Xindi Prime is deep within the Expanse and the anomalies will only get worse as we proceed. T'Pol and Ensign Sato have put together all the information we have on the Xindi, including the coordinates if you want to join us."

Forrest smiled faintly. "You know I'd love to, Jon, but even if _Columbia_ was able to launch -- which she's not -- we'd never make it in time."

"If you can convince the Vulcans to send one of their ships, Ensign Mayweather figures a warp seven vessel can catch up to us within three weeks."

Forrest glanced at Soval again, his expression thoughtful. "What about the anomalies? I thought you couldn't travel at warp through them."

"My engineer and my science officer have been doing some calculations there, too." Archer looked over at the science station where the sub-commander and commander sat. "Trip?"

"Our biggest problem, Admiral," the engineer began, "is that the hull plating just doesn't cut it against the spacial distortions."

"Doesn't 'cut it', Commander?"

"By the time an anomaly encounters the 'plating, it's already on the hull of the ship. What you need -- what the Vulcans already have -- is to extend their shields about eight meters beyond the hull. That should dissipate most of the effect and allow you to maintain warp."

As Forrest consider this revelation, Tucker turned toward the science officer. "Did I forget something?" he asked.

T'Pol gave him a look, one which the admiral couldn't really translate, and the engineer turned back toward the viewscreen. "You may want to make that ten meters, Admiral. Just to be on the safe side."

"I'll pass that along, Commander," Forrest acknowledged, not quite sure what to make of the exhange between the two officers. Jonathon, for his part, didn't seem concerned with the exchange.

Soval, on the other hand...

"T'Pol."

Forrest and everyone else watched the sub-commander's eyes grow wide with surprise at the sound of her father's voice as the Vulcan ambassador stepped into view.

"Ambassador," T'Pol said, standing to attention behind her station. When she did so, it was Forrest's turn to look surprised.

T'Pol was --

"It is not enough that you chose these Humans over your own people, but to actually take one as your mate..."

Reeling from the site of T'Pol's swollen and obviously pregnant state, the admiral watched in amazement as Commander Tucker touched his hand lightly to T'Pol's in a gesture Forrest had seen during functions at the Vulcan consulate between married couples.

After the brief contact, T'Pol's posture immediately relaxed as she confronted her father. "My choice of mate is none of your concern, as you have forfeited your right to intrude on my life decisions."

"Look, Soval, this isn't what you think --"

"Do not presume to know what I think, Captain Archer."

Not liking the restrained tone in Soval's voice -- and considering that he'd never heard Soval _have_ to restrain -- Forrest decided to draw the Vulcans' attention. "Ambassador, Sub-Commander, this isn't the time or place for this conversation. Wouldn't you agree that we have more important matters to discuss at the moment?"

"You are correct, Admiral," Soval said. "Forgive my lapse."

T'Pol nodded, resuming her seat and staring pointedly at her commanding officer.

"Right," Jonathon agreed, "More important matters. If Soval wants to take this information to the Vulcan High Command, we could sure use the help. If not, we've made it this far on our own."

"I will do what I can, Captain," the ambassador answered, bowing his head.

"That's all I can ask." Jonathon smiled at Forrest before ending the transmission, "Admiral, we'll keep in touch."

- - **_-_**

A Vulcan vessel hailing an Andorian Imperial cruiser was a pretty unusual occurrence. But when the visage of the Vulcan ambassador to Earth filled the screen, Shran couldn't help the surprised twitch of his antennae.

"Ambassador, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

In typical Vulcan fashion, Soval dispensed with pleasantries. "You are aware of the Xindi attack on Earth?"

"News of the attack has reached Andoria." Shran leaned back in his seat, his posture bored to hide his interest. "I also know that the _Enterprise_ has been dispatched to find the Xindi."

"From Captain Archer's previous mission logs, I understand you feel an obligation to him for saving your life."

Shran shifted in his seat, not liking where this conversation was going. "It is not like you Vulcans to beat around the bush -- a phrase I learned from Captain Archer. What exactly can I do for you, Soval?"

"Archer and his crew have located the Xindi homeworld," Soval informed him. "I have commissioned one Vulcan vessel to follow Archer's coordinates and aid the Human vessel. However, two ships would be greatly aided by an Imperial cruiser."

"Why the change of...well, I was going to say 'heart,' but then I remembered who I was talking to."

"The Humans are in need of assistance. I am merely offering it."

"The Humans were in need of assistance a year ago and Vulcan abandoned them," Shran reminded him. "Why do you want to help now?"

"Sub-Commander T'Pol is aboard _Enterprise_."

"The sub-commander's presence is against the High Command's wishes. What difference does her that make now?"

"Because her decision no longer affects her alone."

Shran waited patiently for Soval to elaborate.

The ambassador, resigned to the fact that he would have to share details, finally admitted, "The life of my unborn grandchild is also at stake."

"T'Pol is...how..?" Shran's antennae danced with delight at this startling revelation. "I didn't think she was Archer's type."

"It is not Captain Archer's child," Soval ground out. "I am unaware of the details, but they matter little. My daughter made her choice, but I cannot allow her child to suffer the consequences. Will you offer your assistance?"

"I will have to discuss this with my superiors, of course." Shran looked thoughtful. "If they agree, I want you to know that I am not doing this for you, Soval. I owe Archer and his crew. When this is done, I expect you'll feel the same obligation toward me."

- - **_-_**

"I don't know why everyone thinks we need a bigger bed," Trip mused, his arms wrapped around T'Pol. "This isn't so bad."

T'Pol, her attention focused on the book Hoshi had loaned her, declined comment.

"I sure hope Soval's a lousy shot."

T'Pol looked up from her book. "As far as I know, the ambassador has never discharged a firearm."

"'The Ambassador' -- T'Pol, are you going to request our kids call you Sub-Commander?"

"That would be illogical, Trip."

"That's a relief."

"I doubt I will be at the rank of sub-commander when our children are able to speak."

Trip opened his mouth in surprise, before he realized that T'Pol was joking.

He hoped.

"Indeed, Husband. I meant that in jest." T'Pol shifted, setting her book aside as she turned to face her husband. "The Ambassador -- my father -- was distant even by Vulcan standards. I do not intend to be that way with our children."

"Don't worry about that, T'Pol." Trip pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek. "You're going to be a great mom."

"I appreciate your confidence." T'Pol reached for the book, propped it on her swollen abdomen, and resumed reading.

After a moment, Trip asked, "Aren't you going to tell me what a good father I'm going to be?"

"I'm sure you will make an adequate parental figure."

"Well, gee, T'Pol, that sounded really sweet. You gettin' soft on me?"

"The only place I am 'getting soft' is about my middle where your children currently reside."

"_Our_ children, T'Pol. They're just as much your troublemakers as they are mine."

"With the trouble-making tendencies already so prevalent, I have determined both children favor their paternal heritage."

Trip grinned widely at her, pleased with the twins already taking on some of his more endearing traits. "You couldn't ask for more than that in Tucker offspring."

T'Pol's answer was one raised eyebrow before returning to her book. 


	25. Are we there yet?

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Five - Are we there yet?**

Despite their destination and the potential outcome of their mission, the journey further into the Expanse afforded a lot of unexpected downtime for the _Enterprise_ crew -- and everyone was taking advantage of this opportunity in their own way.

Malcolm Reed, as expected, spent most of his time either in the Armory ensuring the readiness of the ship's weapons or, not so expected, overseeing the unofficial tournament that had developed in the gymnasium. Initially, target practice and hand-to-hand combat had seemed like a good idea when Major Hayes suggested it; a chance for the two security details to learn from one another. Somewhere along the line, a -- not so, at times -- friendly competition developed with the _Enterprise_ security officers leading by two on the phase rifles and the MACOs one match ahead in sparring. And, surprisingly, the "home team's" key player was turning out to be none other than Travis Mayweather. Though the ensign claimed he would never trade his career as a pilot for anything, he'd grown up with three older -- and much larger -- brothers and learned a few tricks of survival along the way.

When he wasn't doting on his pregnant wife or the warp engines, Trip Tucker was determined to master the Vulcan language before the birth of his children. Though the commander was an apt pupil, Hoshi Sato wasn't sure how far an extensive knowledge of nursery rhymes would get the commander on Vulcan -- no matter how well he'd managed to translate "The Little Engine That Could" into the demanding dialect.

While her husband was busy conquering the language of her people, T'Pol was immersed in her own cultural exchange. At Phlox's suggestion, the sub-commander had accessed copies of various child-rearing documents -- written by both Human and Denobulan experts. So far, she found the theories of _Baby and Child Care _by Dr. Benjamin Spock to be the most informative.

Surprisingly -- to himself as much as anyone else -- Jonathon Archer was spending a lot of off-duty hours in Botany. He'd never had much use for plants before, but Rajiin was fascinated by the various species and their ability to coexist in the artificial environment. Rajiin was also convinced that Archer needed to relax when he wasn't on the Bridge and insisted that the plants would have a calming effect on him. The captain was pretty sure his ability to unwind had very little to do with the foliage and more to do with the presence of Rajiin. No matter how hard he attempted to deny it, Archer couldn't ignore the calming affect the mysterious woman had on him -- and he hadn't decided if that was a good thing or not.

- - -

Leaning into the to comfort of the Bridge command chair, T'Pol resisted the urge to sigh with content and made a mental note to thank her husband when they both returned to their quarters that evening. Though she had not mentioned the affects of sitting in the center seat for an entire duty shift, Trip had apparently sensed her discomfort and installed additional support on her behalf.

This was not Trip's first attempt to subtly make her pregnant life easier. Perhaps because her Human mate understood Vulcans -- T'Pol, in particular -- better than she would have ever given him credit for, he implemented his changes before even asking T'Pol if it was an issue. Had he asked T'Pol's preference beforehand, she would no doubt have denied her discomfort and would not be able to enjoy the sight of her husband wearing as little as possible in their quarters since he had adjusted the temperature to that of a comfortable Vulcan summer evening.

Though she had grown accustomed to the, by her standards, cooler temperature of _Enterprise_, T'Pol could not deny the pleasure of stepping into their cabin, now.

"We're approaching a cluster of anomalies, Sub-Commander."

Ensign Mayweather's announcement drew T'Pol's attention to the viewscreen. Though she could not see the anomaly field with her own eyes, she felt as though she could sense their presence.

Or perhaps, because of her emotions as a result of the pregnancy, she was more attuned to the heightened emotional state of the crew around her.

T'Pol turned to Lieutenant Gordon, the junior science officer. "Can we plot a course through the cluster?"

Gordon nodded, then caught herself and answered, "Yes, sir." Gordon had never expected to be rotating shifts onto the Bridge and was still adjusting to the demands of answering directly to the senior officers. With her advancing pregnancy, Phlox -- no doubt at Trip's insistence -- demanded that T'Pol reduce her duty shifts. As such, Barbara Gordon -- the most capable of the science corps by T'Pol's estimation -- was being groomed to fill the position.

After Gordon transferred her analysis of the cluster to the conn, T'Pol ordered Travis to proceed. As he did so, she addressed the rest of the ship:

"Tactical alert. We are entering an anomaly field. All hands be prepared for the unexpected."

- - -

Hearing T'Pol's warning about the anomaly field, Jonathon Archer wrestled with the idea of going to the Bridge.

"T'Pol is a perfectly capable commander, Jonathon," Rajiin admonished, placing a hand on the captain's arm.

Shifting uncomfortably on his stool in Botany, Archer regarded the alien woman at his side. "How did you --"

"I did not need to read your thoughts, Jonathon," Rajiin answered, her brow furrowing at his accusation. "I don't need to where your ship or crew are concerned."

Any attempt Archer would have made to apologize was interrupted by the approach of Ensign Isley.

Her earlier displeasure disappeared and Rajiin turned to the botanist. "Pam is going to let me plume the Orcanian ivy."

"It's 'prune,' Rajiin," Isley corrected on impulse, then blanched when she realized she'd just corrected that captain's...whatever Rajiin was...in front of the captain. Though Isley had become familiar with Rajiin during the alien woman's frequent visits to Botany, Isley obviously didn't feel that same level of comfort with Captain Archer.

"Thank you, Pam." Rajiin, ignoring the stricken look on the botanist's face, smiled in appreciation. She then turned to Archer. "Apparently the ivy has been openly hostile toward Pam and the Botany crewmen. Since he hasn't made any aggressive movements in my presence, we're hoping I'll be able to perform the much-needed pruning."

Before Archer could ask about the reference of the ivy as a "he" and "his" hostility issues, the deck rocked violently beneath them.

As the captain, Rajiin and Isley each lost their balance amidst crashing planters, the ensign asked, "Did we hit an anomaly?"

"That's no anomaly effect." The ship shuddered again and Archer frowned gravely. "We're under attack."

- - -

"What have we got?" Archer asked, stepping onto the Bridge with Hoshi close behind. The ensign had been in the Mess Hall when the call for senior officers Bridge had sounded.

"Two Insectoid ships," T'Pol reported, relinquishing the command seat and relieving Gordon at the science station. "They have effectively trapped us in the anomaly field."

A blast rocked the ship, forcing Archer to lunge the last couple of feet toward the center chair. "Are we returning fire?"

Malcolm grabbed his console to remain study. "Phase cannons are off-line, sir, and even before that they didn't seem to be doing much damage."

"What about torpedoes?"

"Both torpedo bays have taken damage," T'Pol supplied.

"So we're sitting ducks." The captain gripped the arms of his chair. "Hull plating?"

"At eighty-percent," Malcolm said, "and falling."

"Travis." The ensign turned to regard the captain, his hope spiking at the calculating look in Archer's eye. "I want you to turn us around and head for the closest ship."

At the young pilot's nod, the captain turned to Malcolm. "Transfer all available power to the forward hullplating."

"We're going to ram them, sir?" Malcolm asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

"They're going to think we are." Archer smiled, the effect lost as a nearby explosion forced him to raise his arms protectively above his head. Recovering, he turned to T'Pol. "When we get close enough, I want you to grapple the Insectoid vessel."

One eyebrow rose at the command, drawing Archer's attention for the first time to the line of blood trickling down the side of the Vulcan's face. Despite her curiosity, T'Pol moved to comply, her fingers moving over the console in compliance.

"Archer to Engineering."

"Tucker here, Cap'n," Trip answered loudly, no doubt shouting over the chaos that was likely happening around him.

"I wanted to warn you that we're going to be a tugboat in a couple minutes, Trip. Can the engines take it?"

"Honestly, I don't know how much more the engines can take, Cap'n, but we'll give you all we've got."

The captain cut the connection, his attention on the viewscreen as Travis completed turning the ship. As he did, the Xindi vessels -- three Insectoid and one Reptilian -- came into view.

"Go ahead, Travis. Full impulse."

"Aye, sir," Travis answered, punching the ship forward.

"How's the hull plating?"

Malcolm, wincing with each hit as though it were a physical blow to his own body, reported, "Holding at seventy-percent."

"T'Pol, are you ready?" Archer asked, looking at the Vulcan. Seeing the determination on her face, the captain simply nodded as he turned back to the viewscreen. "On your mark...now!"

Her aim true, T'Pol shot the grapple line toward the closest -- and, thankfully, smallest -- of the Xindi vessels. Latching onto the forward port, the line whipped the offending vessel around and dragged it behind _Enterprise_.

The other Xindi vessels, momentarily thrown by this turn of events, ceased firing with an eerie quiet.

Not giving the Xindi a chance to recover their resolve -- and cut through one of their own vessels to get to _Enterprise_, Archer ordered, "Cut 'em loose, T'Pol. Travis, get us the hell out of here."

"With plea --" Travis' words died on his lips as two more vessels dropped out of warp directly in their path.

"Bloody hell?" Malcolm muttered as he took in the sight before him: an Andorian warship and a Vulcan cruiser.

After a moment, probably in which the two ships wondered why _Enterprise_ had been towing an Insectoid craft in the middle of a skirmish, the new arrivals flanked the Earth vessel and opened fire.

Within moments, the Xindi vessels disappeared into a subspace conduit. As quickly as the attack had begun, it was over. 


	26. Any excuse for a shirtless Rostov

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Six - Any excuse for a shirtless Rostov**

It wasn't long after Captain Archer left for the Bridge that Rajiin convinced Pam Isley they would be more useful assisting Phlox in Sickbay.

Personally, Pam figured she could be just as helpful hiding in a cabinet until the ship stopped shuddering around her, but she couldn't very well let Rajiin go alone.

That was how she found herself dressing the burns that covered most of Michael Rostov's arm and chest. Having treated her own injuries over the past months under Phlox's watchful eye, the doctor had thought Pam perfectly capable of handling the pseudo-triage in the corridor outside Sickbay. The engineer was actually her fourth patient, but he was the first who had to disrobe in order to be treated.

"I'm sorry we don't have much in the way of privacy out here," Pam said, noticing the looks that -- even with half of him charred and crispy -- Michael Rostov's bare torso attracted. In an effort to draw his attention from the stinging salve and prying looks, she asked lamely, "Was engineering hit hard?"

"Not too bad," Rostov answered bravely, though he winced as Pam applied a large quantity of salve to his shoulder. "Just enough to rupture the plasma conduit I was working on. Ah -- that smarts!"

"I'm sorry," Pam apologized. "Usually, my biggest complaint with Phlox's ointments is how badly they smell."

"Yeah --" Rostov hissed through his teeth, "Not too many plants breathing fire on you, I guess."

Pam smiled at that as she added more salve to the engineer. "I'm almost done."

"Good. The engines may not have taken a beating, but Engineering's still a mess. Commander Tucker's going to need all the help he can get down there."

"Don't listen to him, Ensign," came the unexpected comment of the _Enterprise_ chief engineer as he approached Isley and Rostov. "Hess and her maintenance crew have everything in Engineering under control -- including the mess you made of that plasma conduit."

Before Rostov could comment, the commander turned to Pam. "I heard T'Pol came down here."

Pam nodded, her eyes dropping to the container of salve and away from the senior officer. "I think she's with Dr. Phlox, sir. Actually, I don't know if she's _with_ the doctor, I just know that she didn't come back out here for treatment."

Tucker nodded, gave Rostov a light punch on his good shoulder, and headed toward the Sickbay doors.

"He seems pretty calm," Rostov observed after his commanding officer disappeared into Sickbay. "Compared to the last time T'Pol was in Sickbay, at least."

Pam shrugged, preparing to apply more of the salve to the engineer's burnt parts. "Maybe being married to a Vulcan is having a calming effect on the commander."

- - -

"T'Pol?"

T'Pol turned her head at the sound of her husband's voice, surprised she had not been aware of his presence sooner. Of course, when one took into consideration the bleeding gash on her forehead and the unexpected appearance of her father -- aboard an Andorian vessel, no less -- it wasn't hard to believe that her thoughts would be otherwise occupied.

"You alright, Darlin'?" Trip asked, taking a seat next to her. "The twins?"

"We are well, Husband," T'Pol answered, touching her fingers lightly to his. "How did you know I was in Sickbay?" Despite her own lack of focus, she had attempted very deliberately not to allow her own situation to distract her mate by shielding as much of her mind as possible.

"Hoshi mentioned it when she was giving us her damage report." Trip sighed. "She also mentioned that your dad's coming aboard."

T'Pol, not wanting to think about the impending confrontation with her father, said, "The wound is superficial. However, the captain insisted I see Dr. Phlox."

"And what'd Phlox say?"

"The doctor has yet had time for me. Several crewman were severely injured in the attack and have taken precedence."

Trip took T'Pol's hand in his and leaned his head back against the wall. "Engineering isn't as bad off as it could be, considering the strain the anomaly field and tugging that Xindi ship put on the engines. Hess is coordinating repair efforts to other parts of the ship."

T'Pol was silent for a moment, then tightened her grip a fraction on her husband's hand. "When I saw Mr. Rostov, I was concerned for your well-being."

Trip smiled, warmed by the sentiment. Like T'Pol, he had attempted to shield his own mind so as not to distract his wife from her duties on the Bridge. "Rostov was unlucky enough to be repairing a plasma conduit right before it blew. I saw Isley taking care of him out in the hallway. How'd she get drafted?"

"I believe she came in with Rajiin." T'Pol inclined her head to the bed where the alien woman was using her bio-scanning abilities to examine an unconscious crewman. "Though I may not fully trust her, she seems intent on helping where she can."

After following T'Pol's gaze to Rajiin, Trip's attention was drawn to the back wall of Sickbay. "I wonder if anyone's checked on Spunky and the others."

It took T'Pol a moment to recall that 'Spunky' was the hairless rodent her husband had taken a liking to. "I believe Ensign Isley did while she was gathering medical supplies."

"That's good. Being bounced around by anomalies and enemy fire is enough to rattle most people. I hate to imagine what it's like inside their little cages."

Before T'Pol could comment, Phlox came out from behind the curtain that separated the more critical patients from the rest of Sickbay. "I am ready to see you now, Sub-commander."

T'Pol stood and Trip matched her movement. "You want me to come with you?"

T'Pol could sense that Trip wanted nothing more than to stay with her, to be certain his family was well, but both knew he had duties to attend to. "You should return to Engineering, Commander," she said. _I will be fine, Husband_.

_You better be_. Trip turned to Phlox and offered him an encouraging smile. "You take good care of her, Doc."

"Not to worry, Commander. I'll let you know if there is anything to be concerned about." Phlox lead T'Pol toward another section of Sickbay that had been curtained off.

Turning, Trip was surprised to find the captain standing behind him.

"How's T'Pol?" Archer asked, inclining his head to where the science officer and doctor had disappeared.

"She says she's fine," Trip answered. "I think Phlox just wants to examine her to be on the safe side."

The captain nodded. "I'm sorry she got hurt at all, Trip. I should have ordered her off the Bridge."

"No, you shouldn't have, Cap'n." Trip admonished. He knew his commander and friend was only saying what Trip wanted to hear -- and he appreciated it. "She wouldn't have left even if you had."

"No, she wouldn't have." Archer agreed. "She can be pretty stubborn sometimes. Even for a Vulcan."

"It is you Humans who are the stubborn ones, Captain Archer."

Turning, Trip and Archer were surprised to find Soval and a Vulcan woman standing behind them.

"Ambassador," Archer greeted. "Welcome aboard."

Soval ignored the captain's attempt at pleasantries. "Where is my daughter?"

"Phlox is looking at her now," Archer provided.

"Was her injury severe?"

Trip, determined not to be afraid of the imposing figure that was his father-in-law, said, "She got a nasty cut, but she says she's fine. Your grandchildren seem to be okay, too."

Both of Soval's eyebrows shot-up in a very non-Vulcan reaction. "Children?"

"Twins, Soval," Trip smiled proudly -- he couldn't help it, even in the face of the Vulcan's scowl. "A boy and a girl."

"That is most unusual," the female Vulcan behind Soval commented. "Multiple births are unheard of on Vulcan."

"This birth is already looking to be pretty unusual -- for Humans and Vulcans," Trip said. "By the way, you would be..?"

Soval turned to his companion. "This is the _Surak_'s healer, T'Vin. If Dr. Phlox would permit, I would like her to examine T'Pol. My daughter's health is my prime concern, even though I may not agree with her choices."

"And which choices would those be?"

Soval focused on the _Enterprise_ engineer. "T'Pol was betrothed to a Vulcan of standing until your Human influence compelled her to break the engagement. Her actions aboard this vessel and her decision to remain a member of this crew has been an insult to the Vulcan culture."

Trip countered, "I don't know if T'Pol's marrying a Human could be as much of an insult to Vulcan as you all abandoning Earth when we needed help the most."

"It is not Vulcan's responsibility to --"

"Perhaps, Ambassador," Archer cut in, attempting to diffuse the situation. "We should continue this conversation elsewhere. T'Vin can stay here and talk with Dr. Phlox and T'Pol. Trip, I think you should return to Engineering and keep an eye on the repair crews. I want to get underway as soon as possible -- especially now that it looks like we've got some reinforcements." 


	27. Logic is as logic does

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Seven - Logic is as logic does**

After the Denobulan doctor finished his examination and tended the sub-commander's wound, he left the two Vulcans alone so that he could check on his other patients.

T'Vin, curious after reviewing Phlox's notes and T'Pol's medical history, commented, "It is difficult to believe the Ceidé scientists successfully created a Vulcan-Human hybrid in a matter of days."

T'Pol, still seated on the biobed, regarded the healer. "Dr. Phlox believes the biological integration of our two cultures is only a matter of time. However, even if Vulcans and Humans were to attempt such an endeavor, it is doubtful that any true progress would be made for several years. According to Rajiin, the Ceidé are a scientifically advanced race. Genetic manipulation could be well within their realm of expertise."

"They used this expertise to provide a defense against the bio-weapon the Xindi developed." T'Vin examined the second PADD Phlox had provided, reviewing the doctor's and Rajiin's notes for the cure they had developed. "It is curious that they chose this approach to offering assistance."

"'Curious' is one way to describe it." T'Pol shifted, placing her hand atop her protruding stomach.

"You have formed a connection to the hybrids," T'Vin observed. "And to Commander Tucker."

T'Pol's face tightened, then smoothed when she realized that it was only a matter of time before T'Vin would notice the bond. Vulcan healers were sensitive telepaths; their skills used to treat the mind and body of their patients. Though T'Vin had sensed T'Pol's true relationship to Trip, it was unlikely Soval had noticed it.

For all her father's intelligence, his telepathic ability was almost nonexistent. It was this lack of gift that made him a perfect candidate for brokering relationships with new species that did not employ proper shielding to their thoughts.

T'Pol, though not nearly as adept as a healer or even as sensitive as her own mother, had developed her own shields so that she, too, could be a part of first contact.

Little had she known that her efforts to shield her mind from Humans and other beings would be no match against her feelings for a certain alien.

"Commander Tucker is my bondmate," T'Pol finally answered.

One dark eyebrow arched over the healer's eye. "Though I have worked with Humans for a number of years, I had not realized they had the ability to form a bond."

"Commander Tucker seemed as surprised as I," T'Pol admitted, relaxing at T'Vin's far-from-judgemental attitude. "He first noticed a sensitivity to what the twins were feeling, and then my own feelings. Perhaps his ability to form a connection was another side effect of the Ceidé experiment."

"Or perhaps it was a result of your feelings for him." At T'Pol's widened eyes, T'Vin said, "Please remember, T'Pol, that healers are more in tune with their own feelings than most Vulcans. I can understand your caring for the commander. He is, after all, the father of your children."

"I do not believe that is the only reason I care for him."

"Nor do I. However, the Ambassador is not likely to be as understanding. He is already concerned for you and he sees this situation as another indication that he should be."

"My father has spoken of this concern to you?" T'Pol asked, clearly surprised.

T'Vin, in a somewhat Human manner, lowered her eyes as she confessed, "Soval did not seem to realize how loudly he was broadcasting his thoughts. Sometimes it is difficult for me to ignore them even with my own barriers raised."

T'Pol, who for all her life could not remember one instance when her father had been without the utmost mental and emotional control, found that hard to believe. Of course, it was hard to believe her father would have commandeered a Vulcan vessel and approached the Andorians for assistance in order to aid a Human ship on a doomed mission.

Perhaps she had underestimated her father.

- - -

_Perhaps I have underestimated my daughter_, Soval thought as he followed Lieutenant Reed toward T'Pol's quarters.

When he had first seen her condition as she flaunted both her pregnancy and her relationship to the Human engineer on the _Enterprise_ bridge, Soval had fully believed that he had failed as a father and T'Pol had found the ultimate form of rebellion.

However, after listening to Captain Archer's explanation of the bizarre circumstances of his daughter's pregnancy, the Ambassador could not help the relief that flooded him. Though his daughter was in an unusual situation, she was not completely lost. The effects of a pregnancy on a woman -- especially one carrying half-Human genes -- was enough to tax even the most logical of Vulcans. No doubt, in an emotional state not dissimilar to the illogical bouts her own mother had experienced, T'Pol had turned to the _Enterprise_ engineer for comfort and support.

Once T'Pol had some stability back in her life -- namely by taking her away from the irrational influence of the Humans -- they could contend with the future of her unborn children.

"These are T'Pol's quarters, Ambassador," Reed announced, stopping before the cabin door.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Considering the security officer dismissed, Soval paid little attention to the man as he pressed the button to announce his presence.

After only a moment, the doors parted -- but it was not T'Pol who answered.

"Hey, Soval," Commander Tucker drawled, adjusting the collar of his uniform as he regarded the ambassador. "I guess you were looking for T'Pol."

"Yes," Soval said, eyeing the still-present Reed. "I was informed that these were her quarters."

"Oh, they're her quarters, all right. Actually, they're our quarters."

If the Human's intention had been to upset Soval, he quickly achieved his goal.

"You share quarters with my daughter?"

"Ever since the wedding."

"What wedding?"

The commander's face faltered for a moment, confusion marring his brow. "The Cap'n didn't mention that part?"

"No. Captain Archer failed to mention your wedding. It matters little since he does not have the authority to bind my daughter to you."

"To tell you the truth, Soval, Cap'n Archer _didn't _bind your daughter to me. She did that all herself. T'Pol's a grown woman. She can -- and has -- made her own choices."

"This wasn't her choice. This was an experiment by a race that should have known better than to meddle in matters that are not their concern. It is an emotional instability caused by your Human hormones that are clouding my daughter's judgment."

"My judgment is far from clouded, Father" T'Pol stated, drawing both men's attention as she approached down the corridor. "And I would prefer if you did not refer to my children as an 'experiment.'"

- - -

"This is certainly an interesting turn of events, Captain."

"Y'know, Shran, I thought it was Vulcans who had the gift for understatement."

The Andorian commander smiled, reaching for the bottle of ale he'd brought aboard. As he topped off theHuman's drink, he said, "It is still difficult to believe that this mysterious race of scientists would have kidnapped your two senior officers in such a roundabout way of helping you."

"I've had a couple of months to wrestle with the idea and I still find it difficult to believe," Archer admitted.

After a moment, as both commanders enjoyed their drink, Shran commented, "It is interesting. If T'Pol were going to end up with any of you pink skins, I would have assumed it would be you."

Archer smiled, the look less than comfortable. "T'Pol's not really my type."

"Yes," Shran agreed, smiling at Archer's discomfort. "Rajiin seems more like a woman after your hearts...I mean _heart_. I forgot that not all species are fortunate to have two."

"Rajiin has been very helpful since coming aboard, trying to atone for her past mistakes. Her motives, at least, I can understand." The Human captain leveled his gaze at his Andorian counterpart. "Why, exactly, are you here, Shran?"

"I am here at the request of Ambassador Soval, of course."

The Andorian's sentiment was as sincere was Archer's uniform was orange and the captain told him so. "I would think Soval asking you for help would be a reason for you _not_ to enter the Expanse."

Shran set his glass aside, leaning slightly forward over the table. "In truth, Captain, I am here because I still owe you a debt and I consider this payment. The fact that Soval will be the one in your debt when this is over is merely a bonus."

Though his reasons weren't as altruistic as Archer would have liked, he couldn't deny that the presence of the Andorians and the Vulcans -- two species not usually in accord -- gave him a measure of hope for the mission's success.

"With my crew's help," Shran continued, "Repairs to your vessel should be completed within two days. However, even then, it will be a week's journey to the Xindi Prime coordinates. Perhaps you would like to accompany me aboard the _Kumari_."

"As generous as that offer is, my crew's invested too much into this mission for me to leave them and _Enterprise_ behind."

"Very well. We will complete the repairs and travel together. If these Xindi want to fight the Humans, they'll have to get through us first."

- - -

If not for the disappointment his wife was feeling, Trip would have taken a small measure of satisfaction at Soval's barely-contained frustration.

"Your actions are illogical," the ambassador said for, if Trip was counting right, the seventh time since joining him and T'Pol in their quarters. Though Malcolm was no doubt curious about the father-daughter conversation about to take place, Trip wasn't keen on the idea of continuing the family discussion in the corridor for all to witness.

Of course, Soval hadn't been too keen on Trip's continued presence as the ambassador attempted to convince his daughter to return to Vulcan with him aboard the _Surak_.

"I do not expect you to understand my actions any more now than you ever have, Father," T'Pol said, her voice calm as she stared up at her father. While she had taken a seat on the bunk, Soval refused the chair Trip offered. Trip, for his part, was leaning against the far wall; his stance casual as he lent his wife silent support.

"If your actions had any semblance of logic to them, perhaps I could understand." Soval paused, looking over at Trip when the engineer made a sound very similar to a muffled laugh. "Do you find this situation amusing, Commander?"

"My husband has been known to find humor in the most inopportune moments," T'Pol explained, shooting Trip a look. Though her face was impassive for her father's sake, Trip could tell she was also appreciating the humor. "According to his tally, that was your eighth reference to logic in this discussion."

Soval, clearly not sharing the Tuckers' amusement, turned his attention back to his daughter. "You would choose this _Human_ to raise your children? He who cannot even observe a serious conversation without making a joke of it?"

T'Pol, though she didn't like it, had an idea of where her father was leading the discussion. "And what would you suggest, Father? Do you believe Koss or another Vulcan suitor would accept half-Human children?"

"I am sure that, with the proper explanation, a suitable candidate could be found."

"Now just a minute," Trip said, pushing away from the wall and moving to stand beside the bunk. "T'Pol's my wife. Maybe that doesn't mean much on Vulcan, but I'm sure as hell not going to stand here while you try to take my family away."

Soval, in the most moderate of voices, said, "The sanctity of the marriage bond is honored with highest regard on Vulcan, Commander Tucker. However, what you and my daughter share is not a true bond."

"Sure feels like one to me." Trip looked down at his wife and laid his hand on her shoulder. "How else would I know that, despite her proper upbringing, T'Pol would like nothing more than for me to pop you one for even suggesting that a Vulcan could do a better job raising our kids than me?"

"I highly doubt my daughter has entertained such thoughts."

"On the contrary, Father, my husband is quite right."

"He is not your husband, T'Pol," Soval stated firmly, his tone louder than any he'd used previously. "He, like yourself, is the victim of alien meddling. No matter what you may..._feel..._for him or he for you, it is only logical to assume that your entire relationship is based on the stressful result of the experiment."

"I have already asked that you not refer to my children as an experiment."

Soval looked at his daughter, his face hard. "Your emotional attachment to the hybrids is not logical or healthy, T'Pol. Nor is your attachment to this Human."

Trip took a step toward his father-in-law, ignoring the ambassador's intimidating presence as his patience reached an end. "The twins may have been an experiment at first, Soval, but we chose to keep them. Just as we chose each other. You may not agree with those choices and you may have very valid, very _logical_ reasons not to, but this is my family and I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."

Soval's face remained impassive as he regarded the engineer.

Continuing, Trip nodded his head toward the door. "Now, if you'd be so kind, my wife needs to rest. As you've noticed, she's in a delicate condition and doesn't need her father or anyone else bothering her."

The ambassador did not move for several moments, his eyes going from Trip to T'Pol and back again. Finally, bowing his head slightly, he moved toward the door.

His hand poised over the controls, Soval turned once more toward Trip. "Your loyalty to my daughter is commendable, Commander. I leave her in your hands. For now."

And, with that, Ambassador Soval left to return to the _Surak_. 


	28. I'm not sick, but I'm not well

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Twenty-Eight - I'm not sick, but I'm not well**

One week later, the _Enterprise_ dropped out of warp on the outer edge of Xindi space with the _Surak_ and the _Kumari_ in flanking positions.

No one aboard either vessel was surprised by the Xindi fleet that welcomed them. Malcolm, paying close attention to potential hostilities, recognized Reptilian and Insectoid craft in addition to two other distinctive designs. He wondered, briefly, which of the five Xindi species was not represented in the small fleet that lay before them.

"Captain, we're being hailed," Hoshi announced, her hands moving deftly over the controls of her console.

_That's a change of pace_, Malcolm thought. All previous encounters with the Xindi had involved them shooting at _Enterprise_ without the pleasantry of conversation first.

At the captain's nod, Hoshi patched the communication through. A furry-faced Xindi -- a Sloth, perhaps -- appeared on the main viewscreen.

"You have entered Xindi territory. Identify yourself."

"I'm Captain Jonathon Archer of the Earth vessel _Enterprise_."

Though the Xindi seemed to flinch a bit at the mention of "Earth," he didn't seem overly surprised by their presence.

"You are a long way from your home planet, Captain," the Sloth finally said.

"The issues that bring us here are extremely important. We've traveled a long way for an audience before the Council."

The Council -- as Rajiin had explained to the command crew -- was a governing body of representatives from each of the five Xindi species. All decisions concerning the collective race were made by them.

Malcolm wasn't entirely sure the captain's intentions to discuss things rationally with the Council was the best course of action, but, considering that -- even with their Andorian and Vulcan companions -- _Enterprise_ was sorely outnumbered, he didn't know what else they could do.

"Outsiders are rarely granted audience with the Council."

"I'm hopeful that, this time, an exception can be made. This is a matter that concerns the future of both of us -- all of us."

The Xindi seemed to consider this. "It will take time to confer with the Council. Do not move from your present position."

Abruptly, the transmission ended.

"That went better than I thought," the captain said softly, then turned his attention to T'Pol at the science station. "How long do you think it will take for a response?"

"It could be a manner of minutes or days, depending on the diplomatic tactics of the Xindi." T'Pol paused, then continued, "Ambassador Soval may be of more help in providing an estimated time."

Before Archer had a chance to consider this option, Hoshi announced, "The Xindi is hailing, again, sir."

All eyes were on the viewscreen as the Sloth's image reappeared. "You have been granted permission to speak your case to the Council. You and one other will board my vessel and be escorted to Xindi Prime. Your vessels will remain here."

Though Malcolm could think of at least a dozen reasons why the captain shouldn't agree with those terms, he knew it was likely the best opportunity they would have to appeal to the Xindi and stop the launch of the weapon.

With the slightest amount of hesitation, Captain Archer nodded. "That is acceptable."

- - -

After a short, uneventful and less-than-sociable trip aboard the Xindi vessel, Archer and T'Pol were surprised to be transported into the heart of the Xindi Council Chamber.

The captain cast a glance at his first officer -- grateful for her presence. Though both Trip and Phlox hadn't been pleased, there was no one Archer wanted by his side more than his first officer. He may not always agree with her, but with Earth's fate in the balance, having T'Pol as an anchor of logic was probably a good idea.

As they faced the empty table where, no doubt, the Council presided, Archer could see that T'Pol was very subtly examining their surroundings with her tricorder. The two Insectoid guards who stood near the entrance did not seem to mind her use of the instrument -- either because they did not notice or did not think it posed a threat.

Shortly after T'Pol finished her scans and put the tricorder away, a series of Xindi transporter effects drew their attention to the Council table.

One by one, the five representatives of the Xindi materialized before them: Reptilian, Insectoid, Sloth, Primate and Aquatic -- the aquatic representative appearing in a large, liquid-filled tank for the species' unique needs.

"Captain Archer," the Reptilian representative addressed, "we understand that you have come before us with a matter of some import."

"That is correct," Archer answered, resisting the urge to take a step forward as he presented his case. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding -- a grave misunderstanding that has already cost the lives of seven million Humans and fourteen Vulcans. Not to mention the Xindi who piloted the probe and others killed during skirmishes in the last several months.

"This all began with the unexpected and unprovoked launch of a probe that destroyed a significant portion of Earth. By coming before you, I hope to resolve this misunderstanding and prevent any future hostilities that may erupt between our species."

- - -

As the captain spoke, T'Pol was impressed by his -- thus far, at least -- logical progression of facts over accusations. Though she had opted to stay aboard _Enterprise_ to offer her assistance in locating the Xindi, she often wondered what exactly the captain had in mind for resolving the conflict.

His current approach, that of a diplomat, was a pleasant surprise. Her Human companion was a far cry from the eager and irrational one she'd met more than three years before.

Of course, a lot could change in three years -- as the band she wore on her left ring finger reminded her.

From her place beside the captain, T'Pol continued to study their surroundings. The Council members were intent on listening to Archer's case, the Primate and Sloth nodding occasionally in a way not dissimilar to Human. The Insectoid guards -- the two who had been in the chamber when she and the captain arrived, continued to stand vigil near the entrance. In addition, a Reptilian and Primate stood sentry on either end of the table -- they had beamed in with the representatives.

"There is a chance that, given the opportunity to talk, Xindi and Humans could even develop formal relations," Archer continued. "I am sure there are many things we can learn from each other, opportunities that would be lost if we continue on this course to annihilate each other."

With the captain's speech concluded, the representatives spoke softly to each other; each casting glances at T'Pol and Archer on occasion.

"You bring up several interesting points, Captain Archer," the Aquatic said, her -- though T'Pol couldn't accurately determine a gender -- voice translated by a device attached to the holding tank. "You come before us, claiming that the probe killed seven million of your people with no provocation. However, we consider the loss of an entire Xindi species to be a significant cause for such a consequence."

_Loss of a species_, T'Pol thought, seeing that the captain seemed to struggle with the same disbelief.

"I am afraid I do not understand, Representative."

"One hundred years ago, the there was an Avian race of Xindi. One hundred years ago, a vessel from Earth witnessed -- and was responsible for -- their destruction."

"That's impossible!" Archer shouted, clearly surprised by the accusation.

The Primate stood at the captain's outburst, providing one of his own. "Do you accuse this body of lying?"

Before the captain could respond, his intention to, no doubt, reclaim superiority of volume from the Primate representative, T'Pol stepped forward. "What Captain Archer is saying is that it is impossible for the Humans to have been involved in the demise of the Avians as Humans were not capable of travel this far into space until the last twenty years."

The low and even tone of T'Pol's explanation had a calming effect on everyone in the chamber -- save one. Too late, T'Pol saw the Reptilian step away from his post beside the representatives and launch something at them.

T'Pol attempted to shove the captain out of the way, just as the vial broke at their feet. T'Pol felt the air in her lungs constrict, as though its presence was no longer welcome in her body. The sensation lasted only a moment and she recovered in time to see the captain collapse beside her, his hands clutching his throat as he fought the same ailment that had plagued her.

She heard shouts above her; heard the sound of the Reptilian who'd attacked them subdued to the chamber floor. During this, however, her attention was on her captain -- her friend -- as he slipped into unconsciousness.

The Sloth representative approached, his voice hesitant. "Do you know what that was?"

"I believe it was the bio-weapon the Reptilians developed," the Vulcan answered, her gaze going to the subdued guard. "Our doctor has been developing a defense against it. I request his presence to administer the second stage of the antidote."

"At once," the Sloth agreed, turning to his assistant and speaking quickly. He turned back to T'Pol and joined her as she knelt once more beside the unconscious Human. "Your doctor and vessel will arrive shortly."

Some minutes later, Phlox materialized in the middle of the chamber with Shran, Soval, Lieutenant Reed and Trip. Without hesitation, the doctor and engineer moved toward T'Pol and Archer.

Even as the doctor readied the injection he'd prepared enroute, he asked, "You were unaffected, Sub-Commander?"

"I believe carrying the twins has made me immune to the bio-weapon," T'Pol answered as Trip took her into his embrace -- more for his comfort than for her own. Allowing her emotional Human to appease himself, she continued, "I felt a momentary reaction to the gas but it has passed."

"Let's just hope this works as well for the captain," Phlox said, monitoring Archer's vitals and waiting for the injection to work with the first phase of the antidote he had administered to both the captain and T'Pol before they left _Enterprise_.

Almost immediately, Archer gasped loudly, pulling in much-needed oxygen.

"You're all right now, Captain," Phlox said, placing a hand on Archer's shoulder to keep him in a reclined position. "The first phase of the antidote kept your cells from becoming fully depleted of oxygen while the bio-weapon worked its way through your system. Phase two should have you breathing normally in just a couple of minutes."

The captain nodded, looking up to see Trip and T'Pol.

The engineer smiled. "We were more than ready when the Xindi gave us the call. I don't think they finished telling us we were cleared before Malcolm ordered us to Warp 2."

The captain looked over at Shran and Soval, who were talking with the Insectoid representative. At the questioning look in Archer's eyes, Trip answered, "Soval and Shran insisted on coming aboard shortly after the two of you left. I guess they figured if there was going to be any action, _Enterprise_ would be in the thick of it."

"Gla...gla..." Archer wheezed, his lungs still recovering. "Glad they could make it."

As the captain struggled to stand, Phlox and Trip bent to help him. Leaning heavily on his chief engineer, Archer looked pointedly at the Primate representative who had remained nearby.

"The Reptilians were told not to pursue the bio-weapon," he said by way of an apology.

"In favor of the other weapon you're developing to use against Earth?" Trip asked.

"The weapon was meant as a defense against your people. We know what the Humans have planned for us."

"How could we have anything planned? We'd never even heard of the Xindi until your probe killed seven million innocent people."

The Primate seemed offended by Trip's outburst, and T'Pol placed a hand on her husband's arm. "The Xindi are under the impression that it was Humans from Earth who were responsible for the loss of their sixth species, the Avians."

"I don't remember us ever coming across any Avians," Trip denied.

"They say it was more than one hundred years ago, Trip," the captain said, his voice and breathing back to normal. "And I've already told them that's not possible."

"How were the Avians..?" Phlox asked, allowing the question to trail off.

The Primate hesitated, his eyes going to the Reptilian representative as he questioned the guard. "It was a bio-weapon of some kind. It targeted only the Avians, forcing them to waste away before our very eyes."

"It was their death that brought the remaining five species together," the Aquatic offered, her voice coming from a communicator the Primate held that only those around him could hear. "We were embroiled in a civil war when the Avians became ill."

"And you combined forces to find the ones responsible," Archer guessed. "But why do you think Earth had anything to do with this?"

"We were told by a reliable source that we were not first, nor the last, that the Humans would exterminate from the galaxy. We were told of your xenophobia."

"Who told you this?" Phlox asked. "You only have to look at me to know that Humans endeavor to form alliances with all races, not to wipe them out."

Before the Primate or Aquatic could answer, the attention of everyone in the chamber was drawn to a shadowy figure in the corner. "I am afraid that Captain Archer is quite right, my friends."

"Silik!" Archer yelled, lunging at the meddling time traveler. "Are you behind all this?"

"Am I responsible for this particular experiment? No. However, I convinced my superiors that it wouldn't be long until you figured things out and shared them with our Xindi friends. In anticipation of that, I volunteered to handle things."

"And how exactly are you going to handle them?" Trip asked, taking a protective step in front of T'Pol in case Silik decided his pregnant wife would make a nice bargaining chip.

"What experiment are you talking about?" the Reptilian representative asked, joining the crowd that had gathered around the unexpected visitor. "The Suliban have been friends of the Xindi for generations."

Archer frowned. "From what I can tell, the Suliban aren't really friends with anybody. Everyone is a pawn they can use in their attempts to mess with the timeline. It was a Suliban who told us that the Xindi were responsible for the attack on Earth, and I'm guessing they hinted that Humans had something to do with the forced extinction of the Avians." Archer turned his attention to Silik. "You know what I think? I think that sometime in the future, the Xindi and Humans form an alliance and make life very difficult for the Suliban. So, what do you do? You come back to the past, pretend to be helpful and convince us to point our most threatening weapons at each other so that we're too busy trying to annihilate ourselves to bother with you."

"Well, Captain," Silik said, "You're not wrong."

"But, there was evidence," the Sloth protested. "We would not have launched an attack on Earth without proof."

"'Evidence' doctored by the Suliban, I bet," Archer practically growled at Silik. "To start a war that didn't need to be fought."

Silik stared at Archer, then at the Xindi Council members. Finally, his eyes rested on Trip. "What of you, Commander Tucker?" Silik asked, his tone low in an attempt at sympathy. "No matter what prompted them, the Xindi were responsible for the death of your sister. Shouldn't they be forced to pay for that?"

Trip's eyes narrowed. "Seven million people were killed in that attack, Silik -- an attack initiated because of a lie you told the Xindi. If someone should be made to pay, I would think it should be you and the rest of you meddling time travelers."

"That is what I thought." Silik turned back to Archer. "Though this experiment failed, events have been set in motion, Captain, and the game is far from over."

With that cryptic -- and irritating -- message, the Suliban was surrounded by transporter effect and disappeared.

"Guard!" the Insectoid demanded, "Track the Suliban's ship."

Archer hung his head, knowing full-well that any attempts to track Silik would be useless.

"Captain Archer."

The captain looked up, seeing that the Reptilian representative was addressing him.

"Perhaps it is time we discussed this alliance the Suliban seemed so worried about."

---  
**Author's Note:** We're in the home-stretch here, folks. Only two chapters remain and I want to thank all of you, again, for your continued support and enjoyment (hopefully) of this story. 


	29. Home is where the liver is

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery  
**Special Thanks:** To my ever-patient beta, Stub.  
**Author's Note:** While this story is definitely AU, I am picking and choosing various pieces of "true Trek" (ie: what happens on the show) to work into the plot.

**Chapter Twenty-Nine - Home is where the liver is**

After a week of discussions, in which Archer, Soval, Shran and representatives from all five Xindi species participated, it was time for the Earth, Vulcan and Andorian vessels to return home. And, as agreed, one Xindi vessel carrying delegates chosen by the Council would accompany them.

Standing in Engineering, Trip watched as his crew made a final check of _Enterprise_. Thanks to the Xindi engineers, the _Enterprise_, the _Surak_ and the _Kumari_ had been modified in order to traverse the subspace conduits their vessels used throughout the Expanse. Not only would the ships be able to avoid further complications from anomalies, but the return trip to more familiar space would be only forty hours instead of as many days.

After Hess handed him her final checklist, Trip moved to the nearest communicator. "Tucker to the Bridge."

"Go ahead, Trip."

"We're ready to go whenever the Vulcans and Andorians are, Cap'n."

"That's good to hear, Trip. I think we're all ready to go home."

_Home_, Trip thought, cutting the connection. He wasn't quite sure where that was going to be yet. For most everyone aboard, that meant Earth. For Trip...

Soval had attempted once again to get T'Pol to go to Vulcan with him aboard the _Surak_. T'Pol had, once again, declined.

However, after discussing it with his wife, Trip wasn't sure it was an entirely bad idea.

_"Human medicine has come a long way, T'Pol, but I don't know if any doctor on Earth is going to have a clue what to do when the twins are ready to come out. Maybe going to Vulcan's not such a bad plan, at least for a little while."_

_Seated at the Mess Hall table, picking at the large breakfast her husband continued to insist that she eat, T'Pol allowed one eyebrow to rise ever-so-slightly._

_"I mean, they do have air conditioning on Vulcan, right? What with all the Human visitors they get."_

_"Vulcan does not entertain that many Human visitors, Husband." _

_"Well, we can probably stay at the Earth Embassy, then. I'm sure they've got something suitable for us less rugged beings. Considering our success in the Expanse, I'm sure Admiral Forrest can probably pull a few strings for us."_

_Captain Archer, though disappointed to lose his engineer and science officer, was not surprised by their decision. The captain even made the arrangements for the couple, working with Admiral Forrest and Soval to secure accommodations for the Tuckers once they reached Vulcan. _

_Though Soval never broke Vulcan form around his son-in-law, Trip was pretty sure that beneath his Vulcan exterior the ambassador was practically ecstatic. Soval was most likely convinced that, once T'Pol was back on Vulcan and surrounded by her people, she would forget the Human influence and once again embrace the logical way. _

_Trip doubted that very much. Even without ever saying it aloud, he knew that his wife loved him very much - nearly as much as he loved her. Despite Soval's insistence that the birth of the twins would "break the hold" Trip had over T'Pol, the engineer had no fear that, wherever he made his home, T'Pol would be there with him. _

"Alright, Hess." Trip pulled himself back to the present and addressed the lieutenant. "You're in charge. If you run into any problems, which I doubt, you can reach my over on the _Surak_ until we change course for Vulcan."

Hess nodded, accepting the PADD the commander handed to her. "I'm sure we'll be fine, sir. I just can't believe you're going to miss the celebration on Earth."

"I'll have my own celebrating to do shortly after we arrive on Vulcan," Trip reminded her, grinning broadly with pride.

"You'll send us pictures, right, sir?"

"I already have my camera packed."

-

Though the trip to Vulcan took a fraction of the time _Enterprise_ spent in the Expanse, Trip doubted he could have taken another day aboard the _Surak_.

It wasn't that the Vulcans had gone out of their way to be rude to the Human engineer or his wife, but they hadn't done much - even by Vulcan standards - to make the two feel welcome.

With the exception of T'Vin, it seemed that none of the Vulcan crew had any desire to share company with the "tainted" T'Pol. Not only was she carrying half-Human children, but she had bound herself to a member of the irrational species. If her decision to stay aboard _Enterprise_ or her actions at P'Jem hadn't already made her a stigma among her own people, her marriage to Trip had certainly cemented her position.

Added to that, the exhaustion of the Xindi ordeal and the final stages of a difficult pregnancy were taking their toll on T'Pol. Sheer exhaustion strained her ability to control her emotions. Even her own father - the one who had convinced her to board the _Surak_ - was uncomfortable in her presence and spent the entire journey in his own company.

When they had entered orbit around Vulcan and the airlock doors had moved to reveal the Starfleet ensign who would pilot the Tuckers down to Vulcan, it took a great deal of restraint for Trip not to hug the young man. He was sure such an action would have been embarrassing for both him and the pilot, but it might have been worth it just to see the looks on the faces of their Vulcan hosts.

T'Pol must have sensed his mirth as the 'pod left the _Surak_'s bay because she said, "I trust you will refrain from embracing the admiral's attaché when he greets us at the Embassy."

Trip smiled. "I'll try my best, but if the suite Forrest got us is nearly as nice as the Cap'n says it is..."

Unable to help herself, T'Pol smiled at the image that formed in her mind. She wondered how receptive the secretarial officer would be to her husband's affections. After that thought, however, she felt immediate shame for having it. A proper, logical Vulcan did not engage is such flights of fancy. A proper Vulcan could -

"Hey, now," Trip said, wrapping an arm about T'Pol and drawing her close. With one hand, he wiped an errant tear from her cheek. She had not even realized that she had begun to cry - and hated the betrayal of her emotions. Though she'd been relieved by the ambassador's decision to use the transporter rather than share the shuttlepod, T'Pol couldn't deny the disappointment she felt. Soval - her own father - couldn't bring himself to be around her in this irrational state.

"You've been through a hell of a lot the last several months," Trip said, his voice low and soothing as it cut into her troubled thoughts. "I don't think anyone - Human or Vulcan - has a right to judge a couple of mood swings from a woman about to give birth."

Unable to speak for fear of another bout of uncontrollable emotion, T'Pol merely nodded as she allowed herself comfort in her husband's embrace.

As the ensign piloted the craft to the landing pad behind the Earth Embassy, T'Pol watched the familiar scenery come into view. In the past, the sight of Mount Seleya in the distance or Vulcan's sister planet as it filled the sky would have been a welcome reminder that she was returning home.

Strangely, the familiarity of the scene only strengthened the void she felt. The sight of home should have been a comfort, but she realized that the only true sense of home she felt was wrapped up in the Human beside her.

-

Trip wasn't sure what he had expected when they arrived at Vulcan's Earth Embassy, but it was nothing compared to the reception that awaited them.

Almost immediately after their shuttlepod touched down, the landing platform was overrun with officers, diplomats and civilians.

Ensign Selina Kyle, on behalf of Admiral Gardner, explained that many of the Vulcan-stationed personnel wanted to have their own celebration. He knew it was nothing compared to the festivities that awaited the rest of the _Enterprise_ crew on Earth, but having two heroes in residence had motivated an effort to honor them.

Trip, touched by the unexpected gesture, looked over at T'Pol. He was worried that a party would be too much for her, considering her current emotional and physical state. However, the exhausted woman he had comforted moments before on the shuttlepod had been replaced by the calm and collected woman he knew and loved - even if she was having some difficulty keeping a small smile from her lips.

"A few of the romantics around here wanted to give you a bit of a wedding celebration as well, Commander," Kyle continued. "We even managed to work in a surprise for you."

"I'd say this is surprise enough," Trip said to himself as Kyle walked away. Turning to his wife, he noticed that T'Pol's attention was focused elsewhere. Following her gaze, Trip saw that Soval had joined the party already - and was in the company of a Vulcan woman Trip had not seen before.

Actually, despite being sure he'd never met the woman, Trip felt as though he knew her. Staring hard, he hit the realization. "Hey, T'Pol, that isn't -"

"My mother."

From a distance, Trip watched the exchange between T'Les and Soval, his in-laws. It was his understanding that the two hadn't seen each other in more than a year, and their greeting didn't even consist of the traditional finger-holding T'Pol allowed her Human husband. He wondered if there were problems between the couple or if, perhaps, all Vulcan marriages were as cold as theirs seemed.

He certainly hoped not. Trip couldn't imagine spending a lifetime - and for Vulcans it was a considerably longer lifetime - with someone he didn't love, let alone barely tolerated. Maybe it was merely the suppression of their emotions that made it seem loveless, but Trip found it hard to believe that someone as vibrant and passionate as T'Pol could have come from such a lifeless pair.

As they approached his in-laws, Trip felt T'Pol's fingers as they brushed against his in a reassuring gesture. _My mother has not always agreed with my father's views_.

Before Trip could send a question back at his wife, T'Les focused her attention on the two of them.

"It pleases me to see you well, Daughter."

"And I, you, Mother." Unbidden, the smile on T'Pol's lips widened.

Soval, seeing the display, explained with disapproval in his voice, "The advancing stages of our daughter's pregnancy has had an adverse effect on her emotional control."

T'Les, however, did not seem to mind as she took her daughter's hand in hers. "Our daughter is handling a difficult situation very well, Husband." T'Les turned her attention to Trip. "With the support of her companion, no doubt."

"Mother, this is Commander Charles Tucker. My husband."

T'Les nodded slightly. "Soval informed me of your bonding." Though Trip strained to hear it, there was no sense of Vulcan disapproval in T'Les' voice. Maybe he'd only have to worry about one in-law gunning for him.

Too bad the one in-law was gunning for both him _and_ T'Pol. "Perhaps, Commander, T'Pol should be escorted to your suite. I am sure she is in need of rest."

If Trip could have believed that Soval had his daughter's welfare in mind, he would have been touched by the ambassador's suggestion. However, since both he and T'Pol doubted her father's intentions, neither was pleased with his attempt to hide her away while her current condition could have been an embarrassment to him.

"I have spent enough time resting on the _Surak_, Father," T'Pol said, her gaze level with Soval's. "A lot of effort has been put into this reception and one of the first rules diplomacy I learned from you was to avoid insulting my host."

_She's got you there, Soval_, Trip thought, using everything T'Pol had taught him to stop his own grin from spreading across his face.

"Very well," the ambassador conceded. "I must report to the High Command." He looked to T'Les. "Will you accompany me, Wife?"

"I will remain here, Husband, with our daughter and her mate."

"Very well." With a final look - glare, really - at Trip, Soval turned and left the party.

With all the celebrating going on, no one else seemed to notice his departure. 


	30. A Desert Holiday

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Thirty - A desert holiday**

In the moments before Vulcan's sun would rise and bathe the land in a heat almost too intense for its inhabitants, two figures stood in silence atop a sand-covered hill.

No words were exchanged between the two, for none were needed. A bonded couple, their minds were linked in a way few outsiders would understand. Her thoughts were his, just as his thoughts were hers.

Together they stood, watching the first rays of sunlight stretch across the desert terrain with a red glow.

As the sun continued its ascent, the figures turned as one, their fingers extended toward one another as they strove to deepen the psychic connection they shared with one another. At first touch, both closed their eyes with the intensity of the other's thoughts. It had been some time since they had been alone together like this; far too long as outside forces had kept them apart.

Though, as their bond strengthened with the physical contact of their fingers, they could not deny that their growing distance was not the fault of others alone.

T'Les slowly withdrew her hand from her husband's. "You have been too hard on her, Soval."

As he walked with his wife back to the groundcar they had driven from the city, Soval answered, "She should not have stayed aboard the Human vessel past the first mission or after the incident at P'Jem. It was my influence that allowed her to remain with the Human crew. It is the fault of my actions that our daughter is in her current condition."

"You take undue blame onto yourself, Husband," T'Les commented. "Where is the logic in this?"

"Where is the logic in our daughter's bond with a Human officer?"

"Perhaps she feels for him what I feel for you, Soval. T'Pol cares deeply for Commander Tucker, and he for her. You must have known that with the increased interaction of Vulcan and Earth and other species that our cultures would eventually entwine themselves together though the actions of individuals."

"There was always the possibility, Wife," Soval admitted, pausing as they approached the groundcar. "I just did not expect our daughter to be the first, nor did I expect such interaction to happen so quickly."

"T'Pol and Commander Tucker may be the first interspecies couple, Husband, but I doubt they will be the last."

Opening the door of the groundcar, Soval was greeted by the incessant beeping of his communicator. The day was still quite young and he could not think of who would have attempted to contact him at such an early hour, especially when he had left instructions with his staff that he would be unavailable until later.

The logical conclusion was that there was that the matter was one of urgency and, even as he accessed the message left for him, Soval could not help think of his daughter. Looking to his wife, he saw the worry she did not bother to hide. Despite their differing opinions about T'Pol's union with the Human engineer, both were well aware of the physical danger their daughter was in. Though she was monitored constantly by the specialists at the Vulcan Science Academy and rarely without the company of Commander Tucker, there was always the chance that something could go horribly wrong with the pregnancy.

Listening to the message left for Soval, T'Les felt her legs buckle and only the quick action of her husband kept her from falling to the ground in shock over the news.

_T'Pol..._

After assisting his wife into the groundcar, Soval quickly maneuvered the vehicle back toward the city and, without the caution usually recommended for driving through the hilly terrain, sped toward the city.

- - -

T'Pol woke to the sound of strange voices.

After a moment, she realized the voices were not all that strange, but the ringing in her ears made it difficult to accurately identify the speakers.

Opening her eyes, she felt a moment of panic when she could not see anything before realizing that a bandage covered them.

Feeling her husband's presence, she called out, "Trip?"

"I'm here, T'Pol." She felt pressure on the bed and the reassuring touch of her mate's hand on hers. "How do you feel?"

"Disoriented. What happened?"

"We're still trying to figure that out," he answered. "What do you remember?"

T'Pol frowned, the ringing in her ears a distraction as she attempted to piece together her last memories. "I was discussing Vulcan artwork with Ensign Kyle while you were meeting with Admiral Gardner." She frowned, unable to recall anything further. "Trip, what has happened?"

"There was an explosion at the Embassy, T'Pol." Trip's voice was quiet, as he delivered the news. "You've been out for two days."

"An explosion?" T'Pol asked, unable to believe such an accident could occur.

"This was no accident, T'Pol," Trip said, his grip on her hand increasing. "Someone planted a bomb in the second level garden."

"A bomb," she repeated, the concept even more unbelievable than an accident.

"More specifically, it was the deliberate detonation of Starfleet-issue concussive devices hidden inside one of the newly furnished garden statues," a distinctively non-Vulcan voice provided.

"Lieutenant Reed?"

"Hello, T'Pol. I'm glad to see you're awake."

"Not as nearly glad as I am," added another voice. T'Pol's eyebrows gathered in confusion under the bandage she wore as she recognized Dr. Phlox's soothing tone. "If you are curious about the bandage over your eyes, Sub-Commander, let me assure you that it was merely a precaution. With the debris we found in the hallway with you, I took the liberty of adding a salve to help dissolve any foreign material."

Sensing his wife's confusion over their crewmates' presence, Trip explained, "The whole crew's here, T'Pol. The cap'n's leading the investigation at Admiral Forrest's request. He wanted to be here when you woke up, but he's meeting with the Vulcan authorities at the moment. Soval's actually been a big help with that."

"My father?"

"Soval and T'Les were here when you were brought in. Your mom's with T'Vin, now, helping make arrangements with the Vulcan families."

"How many?" T'Pol asked.

"Forty-three casualties, a third of them Vulcan," Phlox provided. "You and Commander Tucker were fortunate not to be in your suite when the explosion occurred. Several of the living quarters were destroyed as well as the gymnasium, secondary cafeteria and several conference rooms."

As the doctor informed her of the damages, T'Pol's free hand moved to rest on her swollen abdomen. She and Ensign Kyle had been discussing the Human woman's fascination with Vulcan glasswork, an art form unique to a world covered with sand that could be melted and molded into whatever form the artist desired. They had been headed toward Selina's quarters when the explosion occurred. She remembered being propelled forward and then --

"Where is Ensign Kyle?" T'Pol asked, remembering the sound of the explosion in her ears.

"The ensign's injuries were minor," Phlox informed her. "She is working aboard _Enterprise_ with Ensign Sato to inform the victim's families back on Earth."

T'Pol nodded, her relief over the Ensign Kyle's well-being short-lived in the face of the tragedy that had struck so close to home -- both her Vulcan and Human senses of the word.

- - -

For the first time in two days, Trip allowed himself a chance to step outside for some fresh air -- or what passed for fresh air on a desert world, anyway.

Even compared to his pre-T'Pol days when the engineer would allow his emotions to get the better of him in nearly all situations, Trip had been a wreck in the time following the Embassy bombing.

Since he'd felt the rumble of the explosion from the relative distance and safety of Admiral Gardner's office, he had been worried about his wife and children.

Though he could feel T'Pol's reassuring presence in their bond and was assured by Phlox and T'Vin that his wife was merely resting while she healed herself, Trip hadn't allowed himself a moment to relax until his wife told him, herself, that she was fine.

Squinting his eyes, Trip admonished himself for not grabbing a pair of protective lenses before leaving the shadowed entrance of the Academy medical facility. Granted, he didn't plan on spending a lot of time away from T'Pol, but the intense sunlight was interfering with his attempt to relax himself.

"Commander Tucker?"

Trip turned at the sound of his name, recognizing the sound of his mother-in-law's voice even as his eyes fought to distinguish her features in the sand-enhanced glare.

"Hello, T'Les," he greeted, putting his hand over his eyes to shield them. "I thought I told you not to call me 'Commander Tucker.'"

"I told you, Commander, that I will not use your nickname -- no matter how logical you seem to think it is."

Despite himself, Trip felt a grin spread across his face as he remembered telling T'Les why her daughter called him "Trip." Though he'd explained that he was the third son to be called "Charles Tucker," his mother-in-law did not quite appreciate the _trip_le concept and refused to use his preferred method of address.

"If I say you can get away with calling me 'Charles,' will you drop the 'Commander Tucker'?" he asked.

T'Les tilted her head slightly, a gesture that reminded Trip of his wife. "I find that acceptable, Charles."

Pleased with the compromise, Trip turned with his mother-in-law back toward the Science Academy. "I'm guessing that you're here to see T'Pol."

"That is a logical assumption, Charles. Your Dr. Phlox informed T'Vin of her progress. She, in turn, passed that information along to me."

"I was going to call you myself, but I was caught up in --"

"There is no need to apologize, Charles. I can understand your concern for my daughter and the subsequent relief at her waking. Though I have not spent as much time with Humans as my husband or T'Pol, I do understand quite a bit of your species."

Trip wasn't quite sure how to take that, but didn't press the issue as he felt a tickle at the back of his mind.

_T'Pol?_

_I am well, Trip, but I would appreciate your presence at your most earliest convenience. _Though T'Pol attempted to assure him that she was not in any immediate harm, there was a hint of distress to his feel of her -- quickly cut off as she strengthened the guard around her mind.

"Is something wrong, Charles?" T'Les asked as Trip began moving more quickly along the corridor.

"T'Pol's got company," he said, attempting to touch his wife's mind once again.

Sensing, but not understanding, her son-in-law's determination, T'Les quickened her pace and followed Trip toward T'Pol's room.

- - -

Feeling the approaching and reassuring presence of her husband, T'Pol allowed herself to relax as she regarded her "guest."

Despite her protests to the contrary, T'Pol had been resting as ordered by Dr. Phlox and seconded by Trip -- until her sleep was interrupted by a small tendril of someone's presence in her mind.

The mind-touch had seemed familiar, but was cold compared to the familiar presence of Trip's mind.

Opening her eyes, grateful that the bandages had been removed earlier, T'Pol was only mildly surprised by the person standing at her beside.

Having once shared a mind meld with him when she was seven-years-old, T'Pol supposed she should have expected a residual connection to the man who would have been her husband.

If it were not for the man who _was_ her husband -- a displeased Human currently standing in the doorway.

"Who the hell are you?" Trip asked, glaring at the Vulcan man standing too close to his wife.

"I am Koss," the Vulcan said, not moving as Trip maneuvered himself so that he was standing between his wife and the man who had caused her even the mildest distress.

"The ex?" Trip asked, his tone surprised as he regarded Koss.

T'Les and Koss, obviously confused by the term, looked to T'Pol.

"Yes, Husband. Koss is my former betrothed."

Trip eyed Koss. "Huh. I expected you to be taller."

Looking down at the engineer, Koss replied, "You are shorter than I am, Human."

Trip shrugged. "So what brings you to my wife's hospital room?"

"I was concerned. Though our betrothal was dissolved, I do not wish harm to come to T'Pol."

Trip looked skeptical, a feeling echoed in his wife. As far as he knew, T'Pol had not heard from Koss since she broke off their engagement two years ago.

"You can see, Koss," T'Les said, addressing the Vulcan she had once allowed Soval to chose for her daughter's mate, "T'Pol and her unborn children are doing well."

At the mention of the children, Koss looked pointedly at T'Pol's swollen abdomen. "As I said, I do not wish harm to come to T'Pol. Or to her children. That is why I have come here today. I do not believe you are entirely safe while you remain on Vulcan."

Both Trip and T'Pol tensed at the ominous -- for a Vulcan, at least -- tone of Koss' voice.

"Do you know something about the attack upon the Embassy, Koss?" T'Pol asked.

"I have no information that would further your captain's investigation, but there has been talk among some groups that the Vulcan alliance with Earth has gone on long enough with no benefit to our people."

Trip frowned. "And what does that have to do with the safety of our children?"

"Your children are the first Vulcan-Human hybrids; the truest sign of our two cultures integration. There are many who see their very existence as a possible threat to the future of our species."

"Not all Vulcans have agreed with our efforts to help Humans and other species," T'Les said, "But I do not believe they would take the measures you are suggesting."

"As I said, I have no information that would further your investigation, only a wish to see no harm come to T'Pol or her children." Koss turned his attention fully on Trip. "Or to you, Commander."

"What did I do?"

"You are the father of these children and, in some eyes, the chief contributor of the pollution of Vulcan culture."

Trip opened his mouth to protest Koss' statement, but couldn't really think of anything to say. He knew some Vulcans could be close-minded pains in the ass -- the same as some Humans -- but even he found it hard to believe that any of them could be responsible for the Embassy bombing.

Or potential threats to his children. 


	31. Insert clever title here

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Chapter Thirty-One - Insert clever title here**

Fresh from his third shower of the day, Archer suppressed a growl as the communicator on his desk chimed.

He set aside the towel he'd been using on his damp hair as he answered.

"Captain, you have an incoming transmission from Admiral Forrest."

Archer smiled, despite everything, at Hoshi's cheerful tone. The ensign had been nearly giddy since her visit with T'Pol and T'Les the day before. Since T'Les had missed her daughter's nuptials, Hoshi had made a copy of the ship's record of the event. Apparently, the Vulcan mother-of-the-bride had appreciated the gesture a great deal and the three women had spent several hours together.

"I'll talk to the admiral down here, Hoshi," the captain said, settling into his desk chair. He attempted to comb his hair to some semblance of order, but succeeded only in making it stand at odd angles.

"Hello, Jonathon," Maxwell Forrest greeted as his visage appeared on the screen. The admiral eyed Archer's hair. "Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"Not at all, Admiral. Just following Soval's advice."

Forrest nodded in understanding. "Said you smelled bad, did he?"

"Several times."

"It's really too bad that Vulcans have such a sensitive sense of smell and live on such a warm planet."

"That it is, sir." Archer's smile faded a bit. "I take it you heard about the threats to the hybrids."

The admiral's face also turned grim. "I did, and I can't say I'm surprised."

At Archer's questioning look, Forrest continued, "Soval wasn't the only Vulcan on Earth to be upset about T'Pol's pregnancy. Several other representatives have expressed their disapproval over the sub-commander's relationship with Commander Tucker."

"Disapproval I can understand, but threatening the lives of unborn children..."

"I know, Jon. I know. It's hard to believe anyone -- Vulcan or Human -- could be capable of such a thing. However, not looking too far into our own history we know that such atrocities are possible." Forrest was quiet a moment. "You've taken proper security measures?"

"Lieutenant Reed and Major Hayes have members of both their teams watching T'Pol and Trip. We also have an officer following T'Les, at Trip's suggestion. Soval has his own security detail, but his wife could be viewed as a viable target."

"Good thinking. If there really is a group out there who believes Humans have tainted Vulcan, Soval could be just as much to blame as T'Pol and Tucker."

It was hard for Archer to believe that, while Earth was in the process of making new allies with the Xindi, they could be in danger of losing their friendship with Vulcan.

"How are the negotiations with the Xindi representatives going, Admiral?"

Forrest's frown dissolved into a pleased look. "Very well, Jon. It's taken some time for both sides to resolve the conflicts of the last year, but I'm beginning to think that our relationship with the Xindi could be quite beneficial for all of us." Forrest smiled. "Your friend Rajiin has been quite helpful."

Archer smiled as well, thinking of the mysterious woman who, while lightyears away, retained a warm spot in his heart. "I'm glad to hear that, Admiral."

"She also asked that I give you a message."

"Oh?"

Forrest reached for a PADD on his desk, his face serious as he read Rajiin's missive: "'Be sure to plume the Orcanian ivy.' I didn't realize you were a gardner, Jon."

"It's an inside joke, Admiral," Archer said, hoping Forrest wouldn't press for details.

"Ah," Forrest said, not understanding the joke itself but understanding the manner of it. "Is there anything you wish me to pass along to her?"

"No, Admiral, that's quite alright. I'm sure we'll be back to Earth soon enough."

"You're hopeful of the investigation, Jon?"

"Soval has arranged a meeting with the Vulcan High Command. They apparently have some information from their own investigation to share with us."

- - -

Standing in the Vulcan High Command office, Malcolm couldn't help the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach as the three members of the Vulcan High Command entered the office where he, Captain Archer and Trip had been ordered to wait.

Perhaps it was the severe look on their faces or the unbearable heat of the room, but Malcolm had a hard time not thinking of the disastrous scenarios that played through his head.

Judging by the expression on his fellow officers' faces, he guessed that Trip and the captain were experiencing the same sensation.

Taking their places at the large table, the Vulcans nodded for the three Humans to be seated. Once they were, the center Vulcan -- whose name Malcolm couldn't remember -- spoke.

"You may close your investigation into the incident at the Earth Embassy, Captain Archer. Our security detail has found and detained the perpetrator."

It took a moment for the captain to recover from that announcement. And, even when he did, all he could ask was, "Who?"

"An Andorian agent has been apprehended and claims responsibility for the bombing," the Vulcan to Malcolm's right provided.

Continuing the explanation, the third Vulcan explained, "It is logical to assume the Andorians are attempting to drive a wedge between Vulcan and Earth in order to rally Humans to their side."

Malcolm found that hard to believe. What would an Andorian have to gain from breaking Earth and Vulcan ties and, if that was their purpose, there were other ways in which to do it. Off the top of his head, the security officer could think of at least three scenarios that would be better suited for those purposes.

Captain Archer also found the Vulcans' information hard to believe. "I know Andorians can be a bit hotheaded, but I don't think Captain Shran or any of his crew could be responsible for something like this."

"Commander Shran is an individual," Vulcan in the middle rebuked. "He cannot be representative of an entire race. Just as T'Pol does not embody all Vulcan."

Trip frowned at the Vulcan's statement. "What does T'Pol have to do with this?"

Vulcan on the right focused his attention on the engineer. "Your relationship with one of our officers, Commander Tucker, was a breach of conduct on both your parts. You further insult Vulcan tradition -- including the wishes of T'Pol's family -- by disgracing the bond of marriage. The eventual arrival of your offspring will be a further affront to the Vulcan people."

"Wait a minute," Trip said, "I thought we were here to discuss the attack on the Embassy."

"The matter of the Earth Embassy has been resolved, Commander. However, your continued presence on Vulcan is still an issue."

Archer took a step toward the Vulcan table. "I don't understand how you can say the Embassy attack has been resolved when Earth authorities haven't had a chance to see this suspect of yours. And I also don't understand how you can expect to attack two of my officers and get away with it."

"We have done nothing of the sort, Captain Archer," said Vulcan on the left. "T'Pol and Commander Tucker are in no danger from the Vulcan High Command."

"However," said Vulcan in the middle. "It may be best for all involved if, once T'Pol is able, you return to Earth."

"And if they do not leave?" Malcolm asked.

Vulcan on the right answered, "That is their choice, though I do not know how comfortable that life will be."

"If this is a threat --"

"On the contrary, Commander," Vulcan in the middle contradicted. "This is simply a warning for your best interest and the future interests of Vulcan relations with Earth."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Archer asked.

"Captain, we have apprehended and dealt with the agent responsible for killing several of your fellow officers as well as our own people." Vulcan in the middle turned his attention back to Trip. "The Vulcan High Command has nothing but good intentions toward our continued relationship with Earth."

Abruptly, the three Vulcans stood and filed out of the room, leaving the Starfleet officers with more questions than what they'd arrived with.

"Do we have any idea what the hell just happened?" Archer asked, staring at the door the Vulcans had retreated through.

"The entire thing seemed awfully suspicious to me, sir," Malcolm said, his look pensive. "I can't think of any Andorian who would spend more than a few minutes on Vulcan in this unbearable heat -- let alone long enough to get caught after planting a sophisticated explosive in the Embassy."

Archer nodded. "And I don't respond kindly to veiled threats. Do you think this is what Koss was warning us about?" The captain looked to his engineer expectantly. "Trip?"

The look on Trip's face was distant. "Something's going on," he finally said.

"It's obvious something's going on, Trip. Maybe Soval can --"

"No, that's not what I mean," Trip said. "Something's going on with T'Pol." He closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath. "It's the twins. I think she's gone into labor."

Not questioning how his friend knew that his absent wife was about to give birth, the captain reached for his communicator. "Archer to _Enterprise_."

- - -

Materializing in T'Pol's hospital room, Trip looked immediately to the bed his wife should have been laying in and the presence of his in-laws. "Where's my wife?"

Soval stood. "T'Pol is with the Healers, Commander. Your presence is not needed."

"The hell it isn't." Trip took a step toward the door, only to have the ambassador move to block his way. "Look, Soval. I'm trying to be nice to you for T'Pol's sake. But you try to get between me and my family and I'll shove your theory about inferior Human strength down your throat."

Soval looked to his wife, as though Trip's outburst was a demonstration of why he was unsuitable for their daughter.

T'Les, however, stood to join Trip. "Charles' place is with T'Pol, Husband. She will need him."

The ambassador stared at his wife for a moment before acquiescing. "Very well, Commander," Soval inclined his head toward a young Vulcan healer standing outside the room. "Sorel will lead you."

**Author's Note: **Sorel is from _The Vulcan Academy Murders_ -- an excellent book if you're interested in Spock's family or the Vulcan culture. In the book, he is an established Healer. However, I think it possible he would be a young resident when T'Pol and Trip are about to become parents. If you want more advice on good Spock or Vulcan books, drop me a line and I can list off my bookshelf. 


	32. And so it begins

**The Cultural Addition  
a **_Star Trek: Enterprise **- based fan fiction  
by: Joycelyn Solo**_

**Summary: **An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the _Enterprise_ and the future of Humanity.  
**Author's note: **This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.   
**Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_** and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

**Author's Note: **Here it is. The **final** chapter of _The Cultural Addition_. Writing this story has been an amazing adventure -- especially when you consider the modest plan of a dozen chapters turned into more than twice my original outline. I want to thank all who've read and reviewed this story. I also want to thank Stub, my wonderful and patient beta, for her hard work and suggestions. And, lastly, thanks to my best friend Sue who has faithfully encouraged me to write as the muses demand.

**Chapter Thirty-Two - And so it begins...**

Though T'Pol never considered herself much for illogical daydreams, she had to admit that, when she pictured herself becoming a mother, she always imagined she would give birth in the traditional Vulcan caverns deep beneath the planet's surface. Never would she have guessed that she would deliver her children in the sterile environment of the Vulcan Science Academy hospital.

Of course, never would she have thought that her children would be half-alien and she would be happily -- yes, happily -- married to an irrational Human. It was true that life, no matter how logically one may approach it, could not be planned in advance. Because no one could have been prepared for the arrival of T'Mir and Charles Tucker IV.

Seated on the bed, T'Pol looked down at the tiny bundle she held in her arms. Never in her life had she felt so calm, so at peace, as she did looking down into her son's face. She could sense the same peace from her husband as he sat next to her, holding their daughter.

Considering the Vulcan High Command had, in the most polite way a bunch of stodgy old Vulcans could, told Trip and T'Pol their family was not welcome on the planet, the Tucker family was doing quite well for their first hours together.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" Trip asked, his voice barely above a whisper for fear of waking either infant.

T'Pol did not answer -- she didn't need to -- as she met her mate's gaze. She had chastised him in the past for applying aesthetic labels to their potential offspring, but now, with her children and him, T'Pol could not herself recall anything ever being more beautiful than her family.

"Y'think Soval was ticked about our choice of names?" Trip asked, grinning as he remembered the tightened look on the Vulcan's face when he first met his grandchildren.

"My mother was pleased to have her own mother honored," T'Pol offered. It was not a common practice to name children for an ancestor, aside from the use of an "S" name for males in honor of Surak. T'Les seemed to understand that T'Pol wanted to impart a piece of Vulcan heritage upon her daughter, just as Trip wanted to continue his own family's tradition with their son's name.

"The Ambassador understands the art of compromise, Husband. In time he will understand the logic of naming our children to reflect both their cultures."

"For a woman who gave birth less than three hours ago, you're certainly being quite reasonable. Nothing like the stories my dad tells about my mom."

T'Pol stiffened at the mention of her mother-in-law, a woman she had yet to meet, and roused Charles enough that he opened his blue eyes to peer up at her.

Sensing that her brother was awake, T'Mir also opened her eyes and regarded her father. As Trip looked into his daughter's brown eyes, so like her mother's, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

Seeing this, T'Mir's lips moved into a miniature facsimile. "Look at that," Trip said with awe, "She's smiling at me."

T'Pol refrained from telling her husband that, according to most of the books she'd read, the baby's "smile" was probably a result of the nutritional supplement disagreeing with her small digestive system -- even as she watched Charles mimicked the same facial expression.

For a perfect moment in time, T'Pol allowed herself to smile with her husband and children.

- - -

With the various gifts from Earth packed and waiting for Trip to carry them -- he refused to allow her to lift even the oversized bear Ensign Sato had brought -- T'Pol waited for her husband to return to the hospital room.

Seated on the bed, she looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps along the corridor -- footsteps that most definitely did not belong to her husband.

As her visitor entered, T'Pol greeted, "Hello, Father."

"T'Pol," Soval said, looking at his daughter and the various packages piled next to her on the bed. "Your mother informed me that you were leaving."

"It is obvious that we are not welcome on Vulcan."

"It is not you who is unwelcome, T'Pol. You can remain here, with your people."

Though it wasn't the first time he had suggested it, T'Pol was still surprised at her father's audacity. "You would have me abandon my husband and children."

"I would have you remember who you are."

"I know precisely who I am," T'Pol stated firmly. Then, in an attempt to appeal to her father in logical fashion, changed her tactic. "Even if I were to part from my husband, I would not be welcome here on Vulcan. You, though you have spent years as ambassador to Earth, believe I am 'tainted' with Human emotion."

"Several of your decisions bear the flavor of Human influence," Soval reminded his daughter. "Why else would you have broken your engagement to Koss? Or resigned your commission to stay on that ship?"

With an internal sigh of disappointment, T'Pol realized there was nothing she could say that would have make her father understand. None of her reasons would seem _logical_ enough for him. Where did loyalty, friendship and love fit into the Vulcan ideal? Any further discussion would be a waste of both her time and Soval's.

"I will not leave my family."

"The children are not at fault for their creation, T'Pol," Soval said, regarding the sleeping twins in their respective cribs. "T'Mir and --" with great effort, he forced himself to refer to his grandson by his very Human name "And Charles will be raised as Vulcans. Your association with Mr. Tucker, however, must end."

"It is unfortunate you feel that way, but I will not deny my children their father. Nor will I leave my husband."

"You deny your children their heritage."

"If their heritage will not accept their father, then I do not believe it is a heritage my children could be part of."

"If you choose this road, you will never be accepted on Vulcan, T'Pol. Your children will never be accepted."

"I am aware of the consequences."

Seeing there was nothing further he could say to dissuade her course, Soval turned to leave. At the door he paused. "You may never be accepted on Vulcan, T'Pol, but you -- _all_ of you -- are still a part of _this_ family."

- - -

Once again aboard _Enterprise_, the place where the relationship began, T'Pol stood with her husband as Vulcan receded from view.

Trip wrapped an arm about his wife. "I'm real sorry, T'Pol."

"It is unfortunate, but not unexpected."

"'Unfortunate?' T'Pol, you're being forced off your own planet."

"I am not being forced, Husband. I am making a choice."

"Yeah, you chose me and your own people give up on you."

T'Pol rested her head on her husband's shoulder, exhaustion from the last several days -- several months -- catching up to her. Phlox had strongly suggested that she needed to rest, preferably in Sickbay where he could keep a close watch over her as he was currently doing for the sleeping twins.

But T'Pol needed to see her homeworld one last time.

As _Enterprise_ entered warp, T'Pol turned from the windows and regarded the Human who was her mate. Though he remained silent, she felt his love and support through their bond -- a miracle that had only been strengthened by the birth of their children, not weakened.

"Do you truly believe our union will meet less opposition on Earth?" she asked.

"I can't say for sure, but I certainly hope so. You're a hero and a dedicated Starfleet officer." He traced a finger over the three pips that now adorned her uniform. The rank, as well as the Earth-bound research and development facility they were to head, was a belated wedding gift from Admiral Forrest. Though a small part of Trip ached to give up space travel, nothing was more important that being with his family. "Plus, you're a soon-to-be upstanding Earth citizen. What more could anyone need to know you belong?"

"Including your own family?"

"Darlin'," Trip answered, turning with his wife as they headed back to Sickbay and their children, "My family is going to love you."

**Author's Note: **Wow. That's it. The end. Or, if you want to look at it that way, the beginning. Because never fear, faithful readers, there will be a sequel to _The Cultural Addition_. I have other characters waiting for resolution to their own stories, but in a few months you will have the opportunity to join the family Tucker on another adventure. 


End file.
